He was the cowboy on the big screen
when I was just a kid.
A mystical, hero horseman
I lived what he said and did,
Ridin' sticks and chasin' outlaws
savin' herds, fair maidens too
forever he's been my hero
this Ghost Wind, Cowboy Blue.

There was something in his spirit
I was too young to understand
a lone silhouette at sunset
he rode past the maidens hand.
Dust clouds and smoke an orange moon
a horse and rider alone
Where were you going Cowboy Blue,
When will you be back home?

A young man is a dreamer
and hero's share their dreams
but dreams are beyond the desert
and a horse - he has no wings.
So I saddled up my best friend
said goodbye to folks and home
and rode into the desert
Me and Blue did go alone.

Somewhere in the desert
must await my destiny
a perfect pure oasis
of all I hoped to be.
On I rode over the trail thru towns
and all to whom I spake said
 "that's the trail to the place
that's the way you take."

Hot desert suns take their toll
but undaunted did I ride
no longer did I need him
Cowboy Blue I put aside.
Deep he slept dark inside
a mind of shifting purpose
trails once deep with desire
now dim - grew stale and worthless.
The desert can be a lifetime
of trails both fresh and old
Dreams they are elusive
to a cowboy grown weary and cold.
And the question not yet answered
the answer not yet known
Where are you going Cowboy Blue?
Where really is your home?

Each oasis fed fresh water
but still I was dying of thrist.
I'd believed in the dream of Cowboy Blue
the hero I loved - I cursed.
There seems to be a fateful night
In every sole forsaken
whose squeezed the neck of a lifelong dream
past the point of breakin'.

Then Cowboy Blue came to me
on that quiet, deep, dark night.
"I'm here to give you answers,
I'm here to set you right."
A hopeless man will listen
and hang on every word
spoken from deep inside him
by a voice he knows, he's heard.

"Now life is a book of pages
laid open, one and two
most in time will fill the first
but the second, seldom do.
Life on one is twisted
a mirage is what you chase
in a desert of deception
 a dream can have no place.
Page two is beyond this desert
a home in the starlight sky.
Tie hard to the tail of a Ghost Wind
and a horse grows wings to fly!"
The answer sought in movies
seen in tender years
Blue rode beyond the desert
to a home beyond his fears.
And when the movie ended
I hadn't seen the last
for he rode into my future
I didn't know his past.

  "I found the desert - wisdom
all that youth does lack.
It led me to the starlight
I never could come back."
In youth I had my hero,
The ghost of Pecos Bill
I rope his whispering ghost wind
and forever says I will."

"When you search out in the desert
For trails you're always losin'
You're lookin' for the starlight
but are caught up in you doin' ".
"The trail to friends is well wore
but friends are rare, it's true
when winters cold and chips are down
there's just your horse and you."

"The trail of pleasure is hard to track
it's there and then it fades
Every hand poured from a square
is lost before it's played.
The trail to glory, title and name
goes anywhere you please
A trail disdained by heroes,
a circle of cold degrees."

"The trail to gold is danger,
filled with the bones of greed.
Gold is the passion of fools,
the vultures await their feed."
"The trail to love is elusive,
no trail at all, but stone.
True love is not a merging
but shared together - alone."

I felt a strange new presence,
the warmth of a father's hand
as if I were one with the quiet,
the stars, my tears, and sand.
Cowboy Blue came to me
and quietly entered my soul.
There a Cowboy broken,
the quiet - found me whole.
A soft sweet wind began to blow
as my weary head I lifted.
A desert sun peaked the rim
to another world I'd drifted.
 And the wisdom of the desert,
I now possessed within
I tied hard and fast to His Ghost Wind
I'll never return again.
I ride its spiral spire
ever climbing high
winding through the starlight
far beyond a desert sky.

I know where you're goin Blue,
I know now of your home.
I know the dream you're hopin' for
is the same one that I own.
Every story has a moral.
'Cept this one may not be.
Most write a life's page one
but the second cannot see.

The desert sand is littered
with bones of man's dead dreams.
They step across the fallen
and cannot be set free.
Dorothy wasn't fantasy
There really is an Oz,
and far beyond the desert
there lives a Santa Clause.

There is a destination
whose ticket money won't buy.
A beautiful, peaceful, paradise,
A place inside my eye.
The fruit of dreams are children
of unconditional love.
They come in perfect wrapping
to those who seek above.

Wrapped in truth and freedom
and bows of transparency,
Heroes bare these children
through learning how to BE.
Conceived in the quiet
of communion with the ONE,
Heroes die to The Ghost Wind,
The Father and The Son.
Get Real, Get Right, Get Rewarded
These simple words ring true.
The Way of every Hero

Love, Forever Cowboy Blue

If you would teach your children,
 teach them to read each day,
 and extol the virtue found in quiet time
 and meditation; therein,
they will find themselves
and see the way. AMEN

Each must rope a Ghost Wind
Let the wind between lovers blow,
Free to climb the staircase
to seek, to grow and know.

Each must rope a Ghost Wind
to climb the spire alone,
Heroes climb a ghost wind.
They find the road back home.
Dr. Steven Tharp
Everybody wants to be a Cowboy but....
Everybody wants to be a Cowboy but....
Forever Cowboy Blue
I "Felieve" in the River
I "Felieve" in the River
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