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Poem

"Where is this place they call The West?”,  
   a stranger asked of me;  
“Where does it begin, where does it end,  
   where are the boundaries?"  
 
I gave this question lots of thought,  
   I considered it quite carefully;  
For everything from the Atlantic coast is West,  
   all the way to the Pacific sea.  
 
Cowboy is a often an mis-used term,  
   open to interpretation,  
And so it is, with The West,  
   it becomes a generalization.  
 
The answer seemed too simple,  
   though it gave me cause to ponder;  
The ways and life of the Cowboy  
   and how he is bound to wander.  
 
I smiled as I gave my answer,  
   and please don't think it odd,  
But the words I spoke, I truly believe,  
   were given to me by God.  
 
"Everyone has a different definition,  
   and no single one is right;  
It's like trying to define the Universe,  
   or freedom or faith or sunlight.  
 
The West is like the sky above,  
   endless and wrapped around us all;  
It's anywhere there's the soul of man,  
   or the sound of this Earth's call.  
 
It's the place where we're going,  
   all the places we have been,  
The past, the present and the future;  
   where-ever you find a friend.  
 
Where is The West?  
   You're standing there;  
It's no one location,  
   it's everywhere.  
 
It's no place in particular,  
   it's anywhere living is an art;  
It's any place a Cowboy is,  
   it's A Place in the Heart."

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