What I Want

What I want is to be a summer drink served with a straw in a coconut husk. An intoxicating space for my own soul to reside.

I want to reach for the sun like a vine of morning glory on a fence post, knowing it’s warmth will set me free.

I want to roam wildly through life like some feral cat, crafty and full of good secrets.

I want to braid the manes of horses with the Fae and ride into the night through a haunted forest, unafraid.

I want to write songs to sing with all the wise souls around a fire built with blessed wood and sprinkled with lavender and stardust.

I want to know the fox and the coyote and speak in hushed tones and all-out howls to the moon.

I want to chitter with bats and drink sweet nectar from flowers and tell stories to the bees.

I want to see the ocean again and sit in the tide on the edge of the world while reading some apocalyptic novel about the end of it all.

I want to drink whiskey like a cowboy in a dusty bar and talk about the 80s and how cool we all were and not share any of it for clicks and follows and likes.

I want to be the person my own little soul would most like to hang out with and the human my dog could not imagine living without.

I want to sleep under the stars, walk the red road and make magic real.

So mote it all be, and even more.