This week, we began our study of identity. I brought in thirty wishing stones from a place that shapes part of who I am- the beach on Hornby Island and the summers I spend there.
Students started by choosing and examining their stones. What did it look like? Smell like? Feel like? Sound like? And then each student chose their best lines and we created this collaborative poem.
Wish Upon a Stone
by Division 2
At first touch, it gives a sad cold message
but a new sensation of warmth radiates, the
longer it’s in my palm.
Like the warm sand against my feet
as the ocean tide stretches in and then out.
Like a galaxy clouded with misty bursts of dark
orange and white streaks
all contained in a raindrop.
Like speckles of warm dandelion fluff
dancing about the marble
An abandoned trunk with musty polaroid
photos.
Like hard gum that has yet to be chewed
Like a crack in the earth, bursting with energy-
wonders to discover in every corner.
Smooth salt water flowing through my fingertips
The scent of midnight fog on the city’s
harbour
Stones in an ocean of wishes.
Like the head of a golf club
A cold gray stone with glowing pale energy
Marked with an x
like an abandoned and rejected doll
Like a wooden plank thrashing
against cobblestones
And the midnight sky with bright shooting stars
soaring across the surface of the stone.
Green shades waft into each other-
chemicals corrupting a lake.
Booming like someone trying hard to send a
powerful message
without a making a scene.
The smell of an antique rocking chair
found in an abandoned house.
The aroma of fresh sweet dew
wafting
lightly in the air.
At the crack of dawn,
Stones in an ocean of wishes
Like the dull jagged spearhead
carved by an ancient tribal warrior
clashing in battle;
on the edges, blood from his victims.
Like the night sky obstructed by bolts of
brilliant lightning
illuminating the starry heavens
Or the choking scent of dry rock and dust
Mine is smooth like the fresh husk of an untampered
almond
Or sap from a cedar tree in the forest
It's the salty waft of ocean air filling us with
peace
Stones in an ocean of wishes
Like the thick scent of an ancient antique
store burning to the ground
It’s a grey discoloured jelly bean waiting
to finally be picked off of the old candy store windowsill.
A draped elephant with the face of a human
and the howl of a wolf
Like a bowling ball striking bowling pins
Like coal on an old miner’s pick axe
Uneven surfaces, jagged edges and crevices
make it unique, one of a kind and perfect.
Thirty stones in an ocean of wishes.