A river flowed, with waters calm and deep,
Its current strong, its edge both sharp and clear.
The traders spoke of tales, so wild to keep,
But none had walked the river’s edge, nor near.
But Whiskey smiled, and into it did leap,
And swam the current, facing every fear.
He crossed to lands where dreams were born anew,
And brought them back, to show the traders true.
A horse appeared, with hooves like rolling storm,
Its coat was white, and eyes were like the sky.
The traders spoke in awe, but none would form
A bond with it, for none could catch its eye.
But Whiskey, sure, with heart both calm and warm,
Approached the steed, beneath the thunder’s cry.
The horse bowed down, and with a mighty leap,
It chose him as its rider, wild and deep.
Beneath the pines, a secret door was found,
Its hinges old, its wood so worn and gray.
The traders spoke of treasure buried round,
But none would dare to enter, none would stay.
But Whiskey knew, and walked without a sound,
He found the door and opened it that day.
Inside he found no riches, gold, or crown,
But wisdom, old, that turned his heart around.
A bear appeared, its eyes both sharp and red,
It roared in fury, challenging the man.
The traders stepped aside, with none to tread,
For none could match the creature, nor its plan.
But Whiskey stood, with no fear in his head,
And faced the beast, his strength and will a span.
The bear did charge, but Whiskey took its blow,
And brought it down, with skill, both fast and slow.
A lake was hidden, deep within the woods,
Its waters clear, with fish that none could find.
The traders searched, but none could read the moods,
Of nature’s call, or track the hidden mind.
But Whiskey knew, and followed quiet hoods,
Of trees that whispered, winds that intertwined.
He found the lake, and with it made his peace,
For in its waters, he found true release.
The pines began to whisper in the dark,
Their voices soft, like murmurs on the breeze.
The traders feared, and thought it just a lark,
But Whiskey listened, with the greatest ease.
He heard the songs, the stories of the bark,
And knew that time, for all, must come to cease.
He walked among the trees, and in their shade,
He learned the lessons that the earth had made.
A storm did rise, with lightning flashing bright,
Its winds did howl, its rains did soak the ground.
The traders fled, but Whiskey took the fight,
And stood his ground, without a single sound.
The storm did roar, but Whiskey stood in light,
His will a force that knew no bounds or bound.
He raised his flask, and with a mighty cheer,
He calmed the storm, and sent it off from here.
A raven flew, its wings like shadows\' sweep,
It circled high, and whispered in the air.
The traders spoke of omens that would creep,
But Whiskey listened, without any care.
The raven spoke of dreams, both wild and deep,
And told of trials that none could hope to bear.
Whiskey followed, through the night and day,
And learned from the raven, how to sway.
One evening, as the sky did stretch its wings,
The stars began to dance, both bright and clear.
The traders watched, and whispered of the kings,
Who ruled the heavens, never far or near.
But Whiskey smiled, and with no fear of things,
He joined the dance, without a doubt or tear.
The stars did bow, and whispered songs so sweet,
For Whiskey knew how to make the dance complete.
A ghostly deer did appear one fall,
Its coat a shimmer, fading with the night.
The traders spoke of it in whispers small,
And feared the trail it left behind in light.
But Whiskey knew the ghost was not to fall,
And followed it, through shadows full of fright.
He reached the place, and in its soft embrace,
He found a spirit, lost without a trace.
A fire broke, and spread across the land,
Its flames so fierce, its heat so deep and pure.
The traders feared, and none could take a stand,
For none could fight the fire’s mighty lure.
But Whiskey came, with strength both sure and grand,
And took the fire in hand, his grip so sure.
He tamed the flames, and forged the steel anew,
And made the world a place both sharp and true.
A witch appeared, with eyes both dark and green,
Her spells were said to change both time and place.
The traders whispered, and in fear they’d lean,
For none could match the witch’s magic grace.
But Whiskey, calm, did meet her gaze so keen,
And faced her magic with a steady pace.
The witch did smile, and whispered to his ear,
“Your strength is not from magic, but from fear.”
One night, the stars did fall from heaven’s dome,
Their light like fire, their blaze both bright and fast.
The traders fled, and thought the world was home,
But Whiskey smiled, and let the stars pass.
He stood alone, beneath the endless foam,
And watched the night, as if it was his last.
The stars did fall, but left behind their glow,
A trail of light for Whiskey’s heart to show.
A traveler came, from lands both far and wide,
His face was old, his step both slow and sure.
The traders spoke, but none could hope to guide
The stranger, whose purpose was so obscure.
But Whiskey, calm, did walk beside the tide,
And asked the man of journeys yet to lure.
The traveler spoke of paths beyond the sky,
And told of places where no man could die.
A night hawk came, with wings as dark as coal,
Its flight so fast, its cry both sharp and deep.
The traders feared, but Whiskey knew the soul,
Of birds that flew, both wild and free to leap.
He followed it, and found the hawk’s great goal,
A place where earth and sky did softly sleep.
He rested there, beneath the starry light,
And felt the hawk’s wings take him through the night.
One day, the thunder’s crack was heard to boom,
And with it came the thunderbird’s great cry.
Its wings were vast, its feathers filled the gloom,
Its call a roar, that shook the earth and sky.
The traders feared, and none could break the doom,
But Whiskey smiled, and with a laugh, did fly.
He met the bird, and with it took its wing,
A feather bright, to wear beneath his chin.
Upon the cliffs, a mountain goat did stand,
Its horns were sharp, its gait both bold and proud.
The traders whispered, and they made their plans,
But none could reach the goat who walked so loud.
But Whiskey knew, with steady heart and hand,
He climbed the peak, through winds both fierce and cowed.
He met the goat, and with a bow did claim
Its horn as prize, for none could match his aim.
One summer eve, the fireflies did glow,
Their light a spark, a flash across the sky.
The traders saw, and whispered soft and low,
But none could catch the creatures that flew by.
But Whiskey smiled, and in the evening’s flow,
He danced with them, beneath the twilight’s sigh.
He spun among the glowing, fleeting lights,
And made the night a tapestry of sights.
A great eagle came, its wings stretched wide and free,
Its talons sharp, its gaze both wise and cold.
The traders feared, and none could hope to see
The creature’s flight, for it was quick and bold.
But Whiskey stood, his feet firm as a tree,
And watched the eagle as its wings unrolled.
He called to it, and with a mighty cry,
The eagle bowed, and took him to the sky.
The river’s mouth was quiet, deep, and still,
Its waters dark, its edge both soft and wide.
The traders spoke of places, wild and ill,
But none would venture to the river’s side.
But Whiskey knew, and with a steady will,
He took the boat and let the waters guide.
He reached the mouth, and there he sang his song,
And found the river’s heart, both pure and strong.
Deep in the woods, a tree so tall did grow,
Its roots were ancient, and its leaves were wide.
The traders spoke of it, but none would go,
For fear the tree would claim them in its tide.
But Whiskey smiled, and with no fear to show,
He ventured forth, with none to turn aside.
He touched the tree, and in its heart he found
A secret, deep, beneath the earth unbound.
A panther black, its eyes like glowing coals,
Did stalk the land, both silent and untamed.
The traders feared, and none could take their toll,
For none could match the panther’s skill and flame.
But Whiskey, bold, with heart both pure and whole,
Did track the panther, and called out its name.
The panther came, with grace and deadly might,
But Whiskey met it, in the moon’s soft light.
One night, a wolf did howl beneath the moon,
Its voice a cry that echoed through the air.
The traders feared, but none could hope to tune
The howl that reached them from the wild and rare.
But Whiskey listened, and he heard it soon,
The cry of something lost, of something fair.
He followed it, and found the wolf at last,
A spirit lost, but free of shadow’s cast.
An eagle came, with feathers gold and bright,
Its wings a spread of power, bold and grand.
The traders watched, but none could take the fight,
For none could match the eagle’s mighty stand.
But Whiskey smiled, and with his strength and might,
He met the bird and took it by the hand.
The eagle gave to him a feather pure,
A symbol of the wild that would endure.
Upon the mountains, dark and full of grace,
A shadow moved, both swift and full of might.
The traders saw, and none could find its place,
For none could follow it through endless night.
But Whiskey knew, and with a steady pace,
He followed shadows ‘til they came to light.
He found the heart, and there he claimed his name,
For Whiskey’s shadow would not be the same.