The Old Blog in the Desert

(July 1996)

I can’t help but get all jacked
Up when I look back
To see what I’ve become
With things said or done.
An’ how each season
Brings on new meaning
An new reason.

Time’s an endless set of cycle
That Mother Nature won’t forget
Weather,
Dry or wet,
Rain or shine,
Where time and season
Have no boundary line.

Man can fly high above a cloud
But he still can make a cloud
In a cloudless sky.
So why do we sit an’ worry,
What is our hurry?
We live,
We die.

That’s why this old man longs
For the cattle and their song
On trail way up high
Within the open sky
Never so free have I been
In life
Like I am nearin’ death.