By Fred Emery
I lie awake most of the night,
there are no stars, no moon shines bright.
I hear no haunting call of loons,
they’re far away tonight.
I do not hear the water
crashing on the shore,
but for a moment I imagine it
and long to be there more.
No scent of pine, nor campfire smoke,
there are no raindrops tapping on my tent.
No wind blows against her walls,
only silence is sent.
I hear your whispers in the air,
your wings I cannot touch.
I play within your shadow,
taking pleasure just to watch.
Oh magic raven bring me back,
that I may live another day,
to watch you soar and feel the air,
beneath your feathered wings.
Come close by and feel me breathe
and let me stroke your wings,
that I may go where the raven goes
to find the magic that it brings.
Much of my life is lived in dreams,
competing with what is real,
and in these dreams I seek my peace,
interpreting life’s tale.