image from feral librarian
A very good friend, Jeff Boyer, put up something on Facebook (never tell me it’s ALL garbage), and our interaction resulted in me asking him to do the post this week. Yes, he’s a real cowboy, not just a cowboy poet, an archeologist, and a very perceptive thinker. I think you’ll all be blessed! Oh yeah, we met in Taos. 😉
The boys are trailin’ the boss’s cows
from winter pastures to summer meadows ‘n’ grass,
talkin’ `bout nothin’ `cross the sage flats
on a thin trail toward the old Spanish Pass.
Up ahead, somethin’ gleams bright in the sun.
“What’s that?” Jim says to Pete.
“Heck, I don’t know,” Pete wipes his eyes,
rubs out the dust and the heat.
Whatever it is, the cows split around it,
then back together and back on the trail.
The two cowboys ride up to the thing,
an edifice of steel post and rail.
“Would ya lookie there, whatcha see?”
Pete looks at Jim, his old pard.
“Why, it’s sturdy enough to hold back a bull
or mebbe so even a car.”
“Sure is perty,” Jim squints and allows,
“All shiny and painted new.
Prob’ly the pertiest one I ever saw,
though I’ve only ever seen just a few.”
They rode `round it twicet, looked it up and down,
then rode `round it the other way.
With two fresh cedar posts and a brand new chain,
prob’ly cost near two months pay.
“Why’d the boss hang it here?” Jim ponders aloud.
“Well, where else you ‘spect it to go?”
Pete says, “Y’know he wanted to make this an-tee-lope trail
into a proper road.”
“Sure,” Jim returns, “He can put it where he wants,
but somehow it just don’t make sense
to come way out here and set up a gate…
when he ain’t even got him a fence.”
Kickstarting the Application
Gates. Gates guard roads and entrances, they oversee access.
Fences. Fences protect boundaries. They establish and maintain differences between what’s in and what’s out.
Gates. Is there a gate that guards what comes into my heart, my mind, my life? What is that gate? Are there more than one? What are they?
Does my gate guard the entrance to my life or does it imprison me? Does it make me unable—or unwilling—to reach out from my security to others who need to know the security of God’s grace through Jesus’ love?
Fences. Have I set up a fancy gate to guard the entrance to my heart but neglected to put up and keep up the fences that protect my heart, my mind, my life? How am I doing at the fundamentals of fence upkeep?
What are the fundamentals?
· The Word: Bible reading, meditation, and study.
· The Relationship: Prayer, both talking and the often lost skill of listening to the Father.
· The Fellowship: Companionship with brothers and sisters of faith.
Ask any farmer or rancher. Gates are open or closed.
Fences, on the other had, have to be kept up. On the ranch, someone has to “ride fence.” If not, fences fall apart, animals get out, animals get in. How am I doing at keeping up my fences?
PS So who is this Jeff guy? In his own words: “Following a very brief and really painful "career" riding bareback broncs in the '70s, I've been writing cowboy poetry since the '90s (although a good part of the early 2000s was dry). Cowboy poetry, like country music, is storytelling in rhythm and verse. Being an inveterate raconteur, I never know what will provoke a story with images and characters. Sometimes there's a point to the story, sometimes not--pretty much like everyday life.”
© Jeff Boyer, 2021