I walk outside and listen to the birds sing love songs to her. I watch the ants build monuments for her. I look to the sky and the wind sculpts clouds into what I know is her image, and the sun shines on the fairness of her countenances O my helpmate to whom I so longingly search.
Yes there is comfort in my life, but little joy. It is true that I have fun (mostly when I am ridding my horses or dancing), but there is no more happiness. There is only one that I look forward to seeing, and she is one whose face I no longer see. Its off onto the twilight I ride, each ride brings me closer to the day of my last ride. I dance through to this day like a butterfly in a storm. Buffeted about, using the very force that drives me to take us to our fate.
On top of my horse I sit and see the world so far away. I ride with Jesse James and search the badlands for outlaws, to be one or to bring them down. With the wind I ride, chasing the Devil, I fight the Civil War. Indians wait around the bend to do me in. Dismounting into a world of mundane, a world of rent and bills a world of making ends meet. Into a world where I grow old and those I love go away. It’s a world in which no matter how hard I ride, I must return. This world pulls at you as it does me; try's to pull us into despair.
But tis another place I can go where the prosaic cannot enter. That place is a place warmed by a dream, a place that only exists because of hope that will not leave as long as there is life. The sure and certain knowledge of love being gives me this place. I would share this place with you, this place that love give me. I pray that love's fate and mine stay entwined like the ivy vine and the oak tree. Any fire that comes cannot burn the one or the other, but must take both. Love and being, a fate to bind, to hold through the sunniest of days, as well as the foulest, rain and shine, wet and dry, hot and cold, nothing short of death can break the bond.
~
~
~
©
Rexx
No comments:
Post a Comment