Could you, could we..

Could you, could we?

Was a beautiful Michigan Summer day and I held her hand. We walked the circle at Lake St. Clair and she asked me. Could you, could we? Outrun the bear of life and find a quiet/safe place to write. To find peace.

She was my raven with the darkest black eyes and I told her. We decide our journey, we decide our place to rest. I pray we are not birds, just dancing with the wind. Just seeking a safe place to land. I want us to find New York city and you can paint, sell your work. I would go near the Chelsea hotel, talk with the ghosts of Leonard and Janis. Maybe find a reason to write?

She smiled and she told me. If we are not brave enough to reach for our dreams. What do we become? Are we just ghosts of what we were? When we give-in, give-up. What is left?

We stopped by the pier and we watched the lake dance. I told her. Could you? Could we? Be brave and fearless again. Once we were young and we were giants, we had the Pacific, we were cage-less and broke. We had enough. Now we are tangled-up in useless things and the illusion of lies had stole out laughter, our smiles. Maybe it is too late my lovely?

She laughed at my words and she whispered to my wanting ear. Remember when you showed me the sea in 1996. I stripped to bra and underwear. I danced with the sea. I remembered you laughed and you came to me. You told me. “I love you, I love you my wild raven gal.” We are shadows of what we were but we are not dead yet. We will sell everything and we will go to New York. We will find the artist, the poets and the musicians. Live near the Atlantic and we will drink the whiskey to keep us warm and we will adore the wild sea together.

I told her. You are right my love. Time for us to find our place. We have gave to useless things for too long. She smiled and she kissed me. She told me. Time for the raven and the coyote to learn to dance again, to sing again and to be wild. Before we cannot.

Dancing Coyote