Wishing well

“I think I’ve found a hole
In the middle of my soul –
It’s urgent for me to mend it,
But I can’t seem to find a way to fix it.

I revolve everything I can find,
Searching for some golden threads
I could use to sew it back together,
With every new stich, a new rhyme.

An embroidery of hope I would treasure,
My own light at the end of the tunnel,
But until then, I’m left alone to wonder:
Even though it’s still cold now,
Can a wishing well dry out?”



2 thoughts on “Wishing well

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