Voices Gone

In the land where sagebrush whispers to the wind,
A tale of partnership begins, a bond that time can’t rescind.
Coyote roams the dusty trails, with Raven high above,
Two kindred spirits, side by side, bound by a shared love.

Through canyons deep and mesas tall, they navigate the land,
A synergy of earth and sky, a partnership so grand.
Coyote, swift and full of grace, on ground he makes his stand,
While Raven soars with watchful eye, the world held in his hand.

But in their hearts, a longing dwells, for days of long ago,
When Cowboy rode the open range, and Native spirits flowed.
For they were understood by them, their struggles and their strife,
The ancient keepers of the land, who cherished every life.

The Cowboy, wise in desert ways, he knew their wild ways well,
He rode the range with steady hand, through Arroyo and Rocky Dell.
He saw the fight for life they led, in a land that’s harsh and stark,
And in their dance of life and death, he found a kindred spark.

The Native, too, with ancient eyes, saw spirits in the wild,
He knew the language of the land, every canyon, every child.
He spoke to Coyote and to Raven, in whispers soft and low,
And in their eyes, he glimpsed a world, a story only they could know.

In the still of desert night, beneath the silvered moon,
Coyote’s mournful howl is heard, a haunting, lonesome tune.
He misses the Native’s knowing gaze, the wisdom that he shared,
In every step through ancient lands, he feels the absence there.

And high above in boundless sky, Raven takes to flight,
His caw, a melancholy cry, a yearning for the sight,
Of Cowboy riding tall and true, through canyons wide and free,
The one who understood his soul, and set his spirit free.

Coyote recalls the days of old when Native chants would rise,
He danced with them on sacred soil, beneath the desert skies.
Their voices wove a tapestry, a tale of earth and sky,
A language only they could speak, a bond that would not die.

Raven longs for Cowboy’s voice, a whisper on the breeze,
A partner in the wild expanse, a companion at his ease.
They soared together, heart and soul, through valleys, peaks, and streams,
A testament to friendship strong, woven into dreams.

Yet, though they miss the cowboy’s call, the Native’s gentle song,
Coyote and the Raven know, their legacy lives on.
In every howl, in every caw, in every soaring flight,
They carry forth the ancient bond, through day and endless night.

Now, in the modern desert’s hush, where cities rise had sprawl,
Coyote and the Raven cry, to those who heed the call.
They miss the Cowboy’s knowing eyes, the Native’s gentle hand,
For they were the truest friends they knew, in this vast and ancient land.