He
would go each day to
The
Wishing Rock
and
cast his dreams to the sea
He
would dream of things
that
might have been
and
the ones that would never be.
The
fish would rise
to
steal his dreams
snatching
them out of the air
And
he would drink his coffee hot
to
burn away despair.
His
life was good,
his
family fine
No
one could see his quest
Yet,
he would go, each day
to
the Wishing Rock
to
make his mute behest.
Some
days he’d fish
some
days just stare
and
he’d wait for the tide to turn
Hoping
his answer would come
down
the river
and
the waters would quench the burn.
He
was looking for signs
in
the clouds, on the shore,
driftwood
for tea leaves, his muse
But
he knew in his heart
That
there was no one to blame
and
his reflection the one to accuse.
He
had planned out his life
to
avoid mistakes
so
history would not repeat
Now
he realized, too late,
That
this timid direction
had
formed more than clay on his feet.
Afraid
to try, content with dreams,
He
would sit on this rock and just wish
neglecting
his life, abusing prayer,
and
wasting his dreams on the fish.
FTC – sometime in late fall, 2018
UPDATED - February, 2020
I have had every dream or wish fulfilled in my life and could not be happier. I could be lighter, stronger, drink less, eat better, but I still have a beautiful, wonderful caring wife, two great kids, married to good people who gave us SIX grandchildren to play with; Leo, Sammy, Peter, and Catherine from Biz and Andy and Lochlan and Aria from Tommy and Melody.
