Beneath the morning skies,
I write
my wishes,
each line a secret,
each word a prayer.
I cast them into the waters wide,
where they dissolve with the tide,
like whispers in the Wailing Wall.
The water drags these lines
where they belong,
where they will stay,
among the dreams that never wake,
that have no courage to unfold,
and will be taken by the mould.
