Gone To the Mountains
Sometimes the mountains call so strongly
that I shall never know peace
Until I stand where Heaven begins
and the bonds of this life cease.
I do not wish to leave you;
I've not but words to leave behind.
I pray, when you read, you'll remember me,
as strong and loyal an kind.
I rode the trail for which I was called,
in my mind regrets have no place;
The adventure was there for the living,
my heart says I ran a good race.
So listen for me in the laughter
that comes easy among true friends;
In the sounds of men and horses
beneath a sky that has no end.
And know that I loved you one and all,
when you hear music or smell sage in the air,
Dance hard and live for the moment,
my spirit will always be there.
Celebrate life and love and the West;
be fearless and funny and bold;
Please take the time to finish
any stories that I've left untold.
Past the meadow where blue bonnets grow,
near the creek by the gate;
My horse stands rigged for an easy ride,
and I can no longer wait.
So tell them I've gone to the mountains,
to the land I loved and called my home;
That I ride with the wild Texas wind,
somewhere west of San Antone.
© Debra Coppinger Hill
With love for TR, who gave me words and love and taught me how to be an outlaw.
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