A Bull Rider's Heart

We are all so young,,, even the ‘old hands’ Imagining a time with no bull rope is hard to plan It’s riding with a heart and unflagging spirit revealed That’s a most fitting description of what’s usually concealed The dream most have had since they were born About riding horses, bulls, and such without scorn It’s about the ride, that 8 seconds of time That lead you and the bull to a place uniquely sublime Riding bulls or whatever, it really don’t matter As long as your heart, your family, and your thoughts aren’t scattered Whether it’s the big show or not, you really don’t mind You’d ride a milk cow if she’d fly out the gate, so inclined. So even if you ride for the money, or the fame No matter what you draw, you look for no blame Because even though bones, and tendons are often broken And if you’re deemed old because your thirty something year is now unspoken It’s really the heart that prevails when the body can’t follow And provides that last 8 seconds, that make you feel less hollow And,,, when someday your heart and mind don’t yearn for the ride, It’s time to reflect and possibly stand off to the side. Life doesn’t end for there’s still plenty to do There is always a new bull rider that wants to be you They may need a hand, and inspiration or two And a true bull rider’s heart is to return the gift given you.