My love is of the wind, she is leather and American iron.
The ride unleashes her soul, she is one with the birds of prey I hold so dear.
She is the most special of long stemmed roses that only flourish in my secret forest.
She is a wild animal to be loved but never shackled or constrained,
for to do so would surely rob her of her very essence/her spirit which so captivates this man.
Had she wings she would soar with the eagle,
she would own all that lies beneath her and I would gaze upon her from the ground
and feed from her every movement and be alive again.
I want to feel her so close to me that we might lose all consciousness of ourselves
and become a new entity/a coming together of our minds and bodies
so sweet that just for a moment in time I would become her and she me.
We hunger for the first rights of spring,
the sound and the feel of the thunder on which we ride.
The ride consumes us, our motors set us free,
we taste and smell this America we so dearly love,
we inhale her sweetness as she rushes into our very being.
From our saddles we cannot wait for the next sunrise,
the next pine woods forest,
the next blue waters,
all that the "Great Mystery" has made for us to share,
we embrace it all with open arms and willing spirits.
I know that I cannot own her nor would I ever want to,
but if my wishes were truth,
then every time my gaze would be to the right or left of me or in the front or rear of me,
then there she will be.
The highway is our heritage and I want to see it with her until the "Great Mystery" calls me home.
And when he does call,
I want to be gazing into the most beautiful of Mohawk eyes and I will be smiling forever and ever Amen.

By: Fast Eddie

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