Journeying

Into the breathing pounding world
Of drum and rattle
I sit on the majestic rack of my
Moose and am tossed lightly onto his back
To journey
Why are we not visiting the upper realms I ask. What is holding us back?
There is a brush and a murmur and warm breath from his muzzle
Soon enough we will go.
And what is your name I ask.
It means dark and bright all at once. It is soft and comforting. It is deep breath courage and casual nonchalance. It is cadence and aimless wandering. My name is all this.