The Courage to Be Free & the Freedom to Be Courageous

They had the courage to stand and fight
 For man’s most essential rights
The courage to begin again
Down the untried path of a virgin plan

They weathered the tests and trials unknown
 And continued to work, to build and to grow
 A sanctuary where all could find
 Freedom for hearts and souls and minds

The blood bought freedom that we must maintain
Is the freedom to stand and the courage to change
The things that would find us bound again
When power corrupt our freedoms demand

To believe in what’s right – not from afar
But be willing to fight for who we are
May our freedom give us the courage we need
To honor their lives in word and deed

To stand on our honor, our faith and the truth
May Freedom for all be our lasting pursuit

Ebb and Flow

Constant momentum beneath a tranquil façade

            Awakened and stirred to a frenzied pitch

With relentless increase its power overwhelms

            Unleashed and remorseless its hunger fulfills

 Then nobly retreating at an unhurried pace

             Slipping back into the guise of serenity

 Its ambitious desires known only by God

             Hindered, barely, by the feeble arms of earth

 

 

Sometimes The Simplest Explanation Is The Best

Being a flatlander from Illinois on a Colorado ranch I had a lot to learn.  One of my teachers was the lead wrangler.  He made his living with horses, working the ranch in the summer, guiding hunts in the winter and blacksmithing year round.  My classrooms were the tack room and the barn where he explained the different types of halters, saddles and leads.

 

He knew every horse on the ranch and talked about each like they were old friends.  Doc, the oldest, was still used for beginners.  He would fall asleep saddled at the rail waiting for his rider and his top speed was a cha-cha-cha – walk two steps and trot three, walk two steps and trot three.  General Patton was a large grey that was used in the lead position on rides when the creek crossings were at high water.  He just walked right in without hesitation and the other horses would follow. 

 

One of the wranglers was showing off his new horse tied to the corral fence next to the barn. As we passed by I commented on how beautiful it was.  My horse loving teacher took one look, shook his head, spit in the dirt (he was chewing tobacco) and said, “That horse is loco, pure and simple. (spit) I told him not to buy it and he went and did it anyway. (spit)  There’s gonna be trouble you wait and see. (spit)”  I started to duck under the fence rail to walk over and take a look but he caught my arm and said, “Don’t ever go near that animal”. He said it with such forcefulness  that I pulled back and decided to watch from a distance.

 

As if on cue, the new horse reared up on its’ hind legs neighing and throwing back its’ head with so much force that he pulled down the entire corral gate and part of the fence.  His owner looked stricken as he surveyed the damage.  My instructor, who was the resident expert, pushed back his hat, and said calmly, “(spit) I told you he was loco” and strolled away.