Down this trail I ride,
Amidst these travails of life.
An image of a man
Drawn with a poets hand,
amidst the soapweed and sagebrush,
painted with the stroke of a brush.
Across a landscape austere and pristine,
dotted with mountains, hills, and ravines,
On this trail I ride,
between earth and sky,
the wind at my back,
the afternoon sun before me,
Clouds sailing across a celestial sea,
That reflects the earth’s sublime beauty.
My feet resting in the stirrups,
riding tall in the saddle,
My hands lightly clenching this bridle,
Used to steer this horse, my friend,
A companion until the end.
The riding showing on my face,
The past leaving its trace.
My hat pulled down low to cover my head,
With valleys behind and mountains ahead,
Vistas seen, heights left to climb.
A coyote is trailing behind,
Howling into the wind,
Howling of visions without and within.
Someplace between fortune and strife,
Through this journey of my life,
On this horse I ride listening
To the songs the meadowlark sings.
Mother earth and father sky,
A natural temple calling
To all who dare to dream,
On this trail of life.
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