Wish Dust: a poem (& artistic video).
- Kristin Windsor
- Feb 1, 2018
- 1 min read
Sprinkle it in my soup, my salad,
in the dirt I sit in as I soak up the sun.
Help me, Wish Dust.
Teach me to dream.
Revive my inner child.
Sprinkle it all over me!
Allow us to dance
blissfully
as it rains upon our open hearts
bare chests
wide smiles.
Won't you dance with me?
Wish Dust, dancing in the wind,
assisting wishes all over—
wishes we will never even know
existed
the way prayers are answered
when few even know they were ever spoken.
Sprinkle it in my soul, my spirit,
Sprinkle it all over my laughter
so I might emit radiant rays of vibrant vibrations
with every explosion of jolly giggles.
Sprinkle it in my tears. Wish Dust,
make my tears sparkle with your hope.
Let my hours of crying
water the garden of my soul
rather than drown the hope of my spirit.
Sprinkle it in all of life's lessons. I
wish to see the beauty of the darkness
—of the terrifying abyss.
I want to understand the hope of helplessness;
to see the mystical magic, the miraculous wonders of the world
through its eyes,
through the perspective of Wish Dust.
Sprinkle it in on my pillow. As
fertilizer upon fields, it will allow for
a beautiful crop to blossom,
inspiration seeping into my dreams,
waking work nurturing & growing those dreams
until they evolve & transform into reality.
So sprinkle it in my zucchini & mushrooms,
my white chocolate chip cookies & hot pumpkin cider.
I want to ingest as much
as I can.
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