A dream comes floating - - -

Written by: Broken Wings

^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ Spirit, a man in a crisp white shirt, head shaved but for one braid with feathers, his blue leggings enthrall me, his intricate beaded moccasins are beautiful, his leather pouch and his glass jewelry lovely, his is very dignified. I could love him. We are at the junction of the Little River and the Ottawa River, journeying into the Canadian wilderness by canoe, the paddles dipping slowly into the water, paddles heavily incised with vines and flowers. I dip my long black hair into the blue. Falcon, a man with raven hair falling down his back paddles, his feathers are fluttering in the wind, he has dangling earrings, a red cap edged with gold threads, his beads as beautiful as he is, and he is telling me stories of "The People" and smiling at me. I could love him. O, how can this Ojibwa girl choose, I love them both, I truly do, but luckily this is but a dream so I can have both. ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ Narrative December 10, 2012