The Wishing Rock

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.