It was a long slow drink from the well of wishfull-ness
Where people flipped their words of want and longing
Like pennies to a fountain for dreams to come true
Down into the deep darkness where water waits to receive
~
There is old loam in the rising wood bucket mixed with swill
Of a diary of many lost yesterdays spoken out loud
Echoing, bouncing on the stone and moss holding the memories
Tumbling in love, in yearning, in hopefulness as if some magic
~
Comes up to be taken in from the very mouths that poured
Sentences down the old cavity that once replenished thirst
Now we hang over the edge, watch the bucket rise with
It’s murky offering needing to be brought up to the light
~
To be heard, to be seen, to let the wind catch whispers
We dip our hands in to capture the word-soaked waters
Bring the smell of the wet earth mixed with stories
To our open hearts as we sip them in feeling the wishes
~
Tumbled desires flowing down into us as we as vessels
Receiving it all to hold it in the living chalice of our beings
Taking it all in sacred communion of mythic proportions
Remembering it all, knowing it all, wishing it all well
~
~
jeanne adwani@ copyright
Jeanne Adwani ~ geezer girl 