Wish Poem by Jacob Wharton

Watch the starry night lie
Catch the cold falling stars.
Toss them to the wishing well
Dig them out... toss them in again.

Stare the passionate waters down
And let them swim you.
Green to blue to black and deeply turning
The current divides in two.

A hushed, lying echo bruised and distorted
Bolts from the river surface
As the flow approaches the lake.
It tempts me, beckons me to dive in again.

As I adjust to the frostbitten river
The waters refresh me, chill me.
But the current is divided;
It pulls me in two.

In my disorientation the echo reiterates
And bellows from a distant blackness.
Its voice is no longer distorted: it is shy
And passionate and it lays a trail before me.

And the Sun's piercing eyes
Follow me into the deep.
Like vigilant, erratic soldiers of nurturing disrespect
They dance around me.
They dance through me.
They light my lonely trail.
They burn my paper skin.
They feed my hungry heart.
They feed the starving flames.
They leave me
But they will return. They will.
(It's what I wished for.)