Poetry: Wish Upon a Stone

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.