Final Ride

Calling home a strapping cowboy, a man gentle and kind, 

I questioned exactly what it was that God had on his mind

passing over that lonesome geezer living beyond his prime

sitting in a rocker, chewing snuff, just… marking time.

 

Saying goodbye in the chill of winter’s purple dawn

I wondered where I’d find the strength to carry on.

Ashes floating in the current of a golden eagle’s soar

falling, clinging to the coat of sadness  that I wore.

 

Kneeling on the dew-dampened ground I began to pray.

I heard the voice of God in the shadows of the day,

felt the warmth of his hand on my shoulder there  

speaking to the sorrow and the pain that I bear.

-Susan Parker

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6 thoughts on “Final Ride

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