Here’s a poem I wrote -
he dropped into the wishing well a fading copper coin he often flipped to tails or heads to settle on his path it bounced and clanged across the sides a rhythmic chant like rolling tides inevitably silenced by collision with the floor
the turbulence that followed carved a path into the deep the wind playing his whispered prayer across the jagged walls which forked and wove and ramified syllables stretched and amplified until the words were scattered by the structure of the rocks
then murmur joined with murmur as the coin joined with its mates: those trinkets, cheap or valuable, that marked the wishes wished whose voices grew in ones and twos - a yearning tune, a lover’s swoon gathered into a maelstrom by the echo of the well
softly spoke the wishing well with borrowed breath and words that danced over the jaggedness like shadows through the years of hope and pain and loss and gain now echoed, changed and rearranged the latest known infection of the spreading Babel plague