Cosmic Wishes
I hear a sound while listening to the deepest depths of space.
A great swoosh, and to a lesser extent, a swish.
Echos of energy expenditure in the deep dark unknown.
You may ask, “Maybe it’s a whoosh?”
I must politely but resolutely say this isn’t the case.
Whooshes are for wishes. It’s what my arborist mother used to say as we looked up at the tall branches at the tippy top of leafy crowns.
“One whoosh grants you one wish.” She would say in a spellbinding way.
So I became an expert on standing underneath trees in our yard and listening for the whoosh.
I’ve wished for thousands of things to come true without properly inputting them into a wish management system to keep track. One of my biggest regrets.
This is something different.
This is a swoosh. Like a temporary vacuum in space is resonating. Gurgling, perhaps?
And I fear that larger wishmakers are forgetting their hopes and casting things adrift that may end up here one day. Hope projectiles.
