Under the Falling Rain: Cleansing the Dust of the Trails

The Old West taught us that persistence often unearths the greatest treasures.

Beneath the clouds, the thunder rolls,

While wild winds whisper ancient souls.

The dry earth drinks what heaven sends,

As dusty trails begin to mend.

A cowboys hat, brim dipped in dew,

Reflects a life both brave and true.

With faithful steed, he rides along,

In harmony with natures song.

The scent of sage, washed fresh and bold,

Brought memories of tales retold.

Each droplet dances, glimmers bright,

As colors burst in morning light.

So let the rain wash pain away,

Rebirth the trails for another day.

While hooves strike mud, and rivers swell,

The cowboys heart finds peace, alls well.