cowboy

a bit ago i was on a training for work and my co-staff decided she wanted to do a sunrise ceremony for the crew. we woke them early and climbed up on top of the bench, dodging prickly pear and juniper, to gaze out over the henry mountains. we stood in silence as the sun rose orange and pink over the blue peaks and dusty grey cliffs. a line came to my head.

the silence of the sunrise was the only glaring sound...

i could almost hear it...the low sizzle of the sun grating against the reef, the swish of its rays cutting through the wind, the hum of its warmth pressing on my face. it was thundering in my ears without making a sound.

closing my eyes i wondered who would be out here...who would see such a sight before the machines came out to grade the roads. before there was pavement and bed and breakfasts and ranches and atv's out here in this wild landscape. i thought of the native people, the settlers, the cowboys.

cowboy.

what an amazing icon - the hero and villian of the west. tough and kind and wild and tamed all at the same time. how many had been right where i was? how many had seen the sunrise like i had?

i am no cowboy.

who am i?

what ties me to this image? i see him there - dusty, strong. what i feel is a yearning. i want him. i want him with me.

the silence of the sunrise was the only glaring sound
he stands there on the mesa with the sagebrush all around
his feet are shod in leather like the skin upon his face
unnaturally fitting is his presence in this place

oh cowboy
lonely creature of the plains
i dream you in this dusty windswept dawn
i long to hold your calloused hand and hear your voice again
you whispering my name
press against your solid frame
but i've lost you to this lonely road you're on

my tears they fall like raindrops on the shattered desert ground
arresting dusty hoofbeats as the cattle mill around
my breaths like gentle breezes ruffling his feathered hair
wet with sweat beneath the stetson i gave him to always wear

oh cowboy
lonely creature of the plains
i dream you in this dusty windswept dawn
i long to hold your calloused hand and hear your voice again
you whispering my name
press against your solid frame
but i've lost you to this lonely road you're on

the night it falls with whispers of the stars far overhead
there's a blanket for his pillow and another for his bed
by the campfire he lies quiet with an aching in his bones
and he knows it's my heart calling telling him to come back home

oh cowboy
lonely creature of the plains
i dream you in this dusty windswept dawn
i long to hold your calloused hand and hear your voice again
you whispering my name
press against your solid frame
but i've lost you to this lonely road you're on