Wish folded and flown, aimed at the sky, may you alight amongst moon’s kindle, twinkles of hope of most high.
Dreams writ for no eyes or held reticent in heart still carry purpose and meaning no matter their start.
As proletary find clouds shadowing their day, prayers will break through storm-fronts, clearing paths for light’s array.
Whose hand picks requests for the punnet of true turns real the most sweet and sincere, lifting spirits anew. : )