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THE COWBOY’S PRODIGAL SON
Recently, I preached at a “Cowboy Church” and while there, I met a good friend who’s a Bona-fide, down-to-earth Montana cowboy. He’s not one of the “drugstore wanna- be’s”, but the real thing. He’s a Rodeo roper, and also an out-and-out dedicated Christian. While on the rodeo circuit he often preaches at various cowboy get- togethers. And recites in his own homespun way some of the many poems he’s composed. And here’s one of them:
“The Prodigal” - The Cowboy version from Luke 15:11-31
By: Craig Nelson
Dad, can I have the money, that you’ve set aside for me?
My pickup truck, is loaded up, n’ there’s a world a waiting on me.
Feed ol’ Blue, and my rope horse too,
Work them, if you get a chance.
There’s just so much more, that life has in store,
Than workin’on this old ranch.Wish my brother Jess, all the best,
And I’m glad that he’s gonna stay.
And don’t blame no one, that I broke and run,
Like some old slick eared stray.
The ol’ rancher watched, as the tires kicked up dust,
Till the wind blew it out of sight.
Then he stared a long time, at the gray skyline,
Till the day turned into night.But that pickup rolled on, though the day was far gone,
Drawn by the cities bright glow,
To a bar in town, where the night life abounds,
And the whiskey, like a river, did flow.
Though he didn’t fit in, with money to spend,
A crowd soon gathered ‘round,
Now he had drinking pals, and low neckline gals,
Just look at the friends he had found.
That party went on, each night til near dawn,
Was just the bars and the names that changed.Smoke and cheap thrills, wine women and pills,
He was proud of the life he’d arranged.
But too soon he went broke, with no money in his poke,
A friend just couldn’t be found,
There wasn’t one here, that would buy him a beer,
In what once was a real friendly town.
That night life sure enough, had him looking rough,
His life had gone to the dogs,As he drug out of town, a farmer he found,
Gave him work a’feeding his hogs.
He fed them their swill, with his own hunger still,
A’gnawing at him way down deep.
‘N he thought of the hands, ridin’ for his Dad’s brand,
Well fed, with a warm place to sleep.
Through the mire it came clear, he had to leave here,
And go back to his Daddy’s land,
I’ll tell him how wrong I been, an’ if he’ll let me in,
I’ll be just another hired hand.It took all his will, to climb that last hill,
That looked over the old home place,
Then he saw his Dad come, in a wide open run,
With a great big smile on his face!
At his feet the boy fell, in his rags and hog smell,
And cried “Father, great is my sin.”
The rancher knelt to embrace, with his heart full of grace,
The son who’d come back to him.
Bring some clothes over here, an’ kill a fat steer,
For we have cause to rejoice!But just about then, Jess rode his horse in,
And wondered at all of the noise.
He learned from a hand, that a party was planned,
For his lost brother, just now had come.
He wanted to cuss! Why make such a fuss?
For a sinner and a drunken bum?
The rancher was grieved, as Jess turned to leave,
And went out to ask him to stay.Jess said, all these years, of sweat and tears,
And now you treat me this way?
But the Rancher said Jess, you’re my faithful Son,
And I know you will be, till the end.
But now it’s my choice, that we should rejoice,
For your brother, who was dead, lives again.___ Given to me by Craig Nelson, rodeo roper and cowboy preacher
___ May 2006
Posted by cdrnorth at August 16, 2007 11:08 AM