The Coyote told the falling Sun, the rising moon. I need less hard days, I need more easy day, cooler nights. I want deep and soulful jazz, the long river near and I love the amber sky and star-lit nights.
He sat alone, good cigar and a Long Island ice tea. A dark hair lady watched him and she went to him. She asked him, jokester Coyote, you look heavy with useless things. Let’s the Raven and the Coyote find some mischief. We don’t need to look behind us forever, we must seek what is in the front of us.
Coyote, my wild coyote. You and I. We are mischief and tomfoolery. We are not doubting Thomas and fearful. Let’s seek strong drink, good song and an egg and bacon breakfast. We need to find the river and I need you to sing the coyote’s song to me. I will sing with you and I want us to be wild, dangerous and demanding. We are not dead yet and the night is long.
He told her, my Raven, my treasure, my dearest friend. I do need your laughter, your joyous voice. Tonight I yearn for things lost. Let’s awake the sleeping city and I need to sing with you tonight. Maybe we can find lost friends, create new songs and create a lullaby of people, who love the mischief of life.
The Raven smiled and she told the Coyote. Tonight the moon is bright and the night is young. I can hear the other coyotes and ravens seeking attention. Maybe we can gather with them. Show the world.
The Jokester and the bird of mischief are alive and well. They have not given-in yet and we are not caged-in yet. Let’s find the river, let’s dance for the moon and let’s tell the stars in the sky. We are not done yet.