Riding Toward the Light

(for Rod Nichols) Oh, there’s a campfire up ahead In the smoky darkness of night, That holds the hopes and things we dread As we go riding toward the light. Those wagon wheels just keep spinning, And all our life’s but one wild ride; Our end is but the beginning As we let all our dark thoughts slide. And when the warmth of youth expires As all our years of living pass, We seek the wisdom of campfires Amid gold mesas and green grass. But then we gathered by your fire And shared our words of bygone days; Raw hands and poets in your hire, Lost in the prairie’s pulsing haze. And as we watched you drink that joe And fling away the final drop, We know that soon we all must go To gallop skies that never stop. Yet, there was much you had to do To make sure you had left a mark, And though you knew you’re never through, You lit a light within our dark. Yes, still we sit around fire flame And now reflect on things we’ve done; Knowing our ends are all the same, As we recall your glints of sun. There’s still a campfire for the crew As we now drift in glowing night; Yet, you left far more than you knew As we go riding toward the light.