Don’t tell it to the wind
To be blown away as vapor
Or share it with a gossiper
As fragile as a dandelion.

Don’t speak of it on the mountaintop;
Even the clouds have ears.
For fear that the Devil hears –
Don’t pray for it aloud to God.

Let the wish build up inside
Then straight-faced, release it subtly –
As your actions make it be –
Until its existence can’t be denied.