Wishing Stones And Empty Well

The wishing well of our seeking

Is now empty.

It used to be filled with stones..

We made our wishes upon.

What’s left now is a deserted ground..

Where raindrops pitter patter;

As they fall.

Our happiness was once found..

In letting them fall on our faces and palms.

Now it only takes a few;

Of those early raindrops..

That are five minutes ahead

Than all the others to hit me on the face..

And make me go indoors.

Back then we would brush

Moving clouds away from our eyes.

And get another day to have..

Each other by our sides.

Now we rub our eyes tirelessly;

Seeking clarity..

Between these uncountable look alikes.

Back then, We still made our way..

Through every different kinds of rain there is..

Stinging rain or a hurricane;

Sideways or straight down.

Even the ones that stood against the ground.

And so I keep a wishing stone in my pocket..

Without letting you know..

That it’s still you and yours that I seek.

I lost my wallet;

Which had your handwritten notes

And a card signed by you..

Tucked and folded between the currency notes.

Even your gifts have slowly started to lose your scent.

My secrets aren’t to keep you away..

Perhaps to save myself in getting drowned;

Let's find happiness on these empty grounds;

Without letting each other know.