“Wish you were here” can be trite but true.
Writing a postcard means I thought of you.
But it could mean more —
Will you believe that’s true?
I’m wishing you the quiet
Of a warm September night,
I’m wishing you the rest and hope
Of a life with burdens light.
I’m wishing that — you find your dreams,
A childlike faith, some innocence returned,
New horizons, happy schemes,
And healing — if your heart’s been burned.
If there’s a way to give my self,
To help another’s life have peace,
Lord, let me find it, then I’ll be
Myself unburdened, truly free.
clarakatalin 
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