Wishes

This week's Red Writing Hood Challenge: "To the moon"

I've been stuck since I read this email; determined to write something, but my fingers didn't know where to go... finally, I made a wish:

                                                            Wishes

I don't throw wishes in wells.  Wells eventually have a bottom, where wishes could sink in the sand and be lost forever.  Stuck and forgotten and never able to come true. If we drained that wishing well, how many wishes would we find?  Unanswered, unknown... hardened into bitter fossils?

 I don't blow my wishes into birthday candle flames. Candles are meant to blow out, only to poof away and spread into smoky air and disappear forever.  How many incomplete birthday wishes would we find if we could collect all that birthday candle smoke?

I don't make my wishes on face up pennies.  The least desirable of all loose change.  Only to end up in the bottom of a purse or wallet...eventually face up on asphalt for another wisher to pick up, when it hasn't even redeemed all the other wishes made to Abe Lincoln's shiny copper head. How many many pennies would it take to cash in a wish?

I don't puff my wishes into dandelions, where the seeds sweep up in the wind, landing in strangers' yards, taking my deep secret wishes and setting root for someone else.  Someone else who will see my wish growing and marring their lawn.  Someone else who will yank my wish by it's root and toss it in the trash.  Someone else who will see my wish as a scar on their manicured landscape and shred it to pieces in their lawn mower.

I don't make my wish upon a star.  A star is nothing more than a beautiful illusion.  A dot of light that dimmed to dark so long ago, barely reaching us hundreds, thousands, millions (?) of years later.  My wishes are too precious to throw up to the dark part of the heavens, to whisper  into a light that really isn't light.

When I wish, I wish on the moon.  It is light, like the heart that carries my wish.  The moon can light the darkest path on the darkest night. It is brave, like me.  The moon fights the sun.  When the illusion stars fade away in fear of the sun's rising, the moon stays.  It takes its time and sets when it wants, when it feels the time is right.  The moon is always there- like faith; no matter the phase; whether you see it or not, you feel it.  You know the moon is keeping guard.  My wishes are made of light. My wishes are filled with a secret bravery only they know.  My wishes have fight in them.  My wishes are filled with faith.

When I wish, I send my wishes to the moon.