"A Cowboyís Prayer"

Oh Lord, Iíve never lived where churches grow.

I love creation better as it stood

That day You finished it so long ago

And looked upon Your work and called it good.


I know that others find You in the light

Thatís sifted down through tinted window panes,

And yet I seem to feel You near tonight

In this dim, quiet starlight on the plains.


I thank You, Lord, that I am placed so well,

That You have made my freedom so complete;

That Iím no slave of whistle, clock or bell,

Nor weak-eyed prisoner of wall and street.


Just let me live my life as Iíve begun

And give me work thatís open to the sky;

Make me a pardner of the wind and sun,

And I wonít ask a life thatís soft or high.


Let me be easy on the man thatís down;

Let me be square and generous with all.

Iím careless sometimes, Lord, when Iím in town,

But never let 'em say Iím mean or small!


Make me as big and open as the plains,

As honest as the hawse between my knees,

Clean as the wind that blows behind the rains,

Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze!


Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I forget.

You know about the reasons that are hid.

You understand the things that gall and fret;

You know me better than my mother did.


Just keep an eye on all thatís done and said

And right me, sometimes, when I turn aside,

And guide me on the long, dim, trail ahead

That stretches upward toward the Great Divide.