His hat was sweat stained like the chaps that he wore.
His boots dusty, and jeans saddle worn.
He rested his arms on the top rail of the salebarn pen
And eyed the last bunch of horses as they were brought in.
Most were spavined and old or lame;
This bunch was headed to the kill plant,
Rather than on to fame.
One gray caught his eye -- was marked by many a spur.
Raw boned , younger than the rest and a rogue for sure.
But the cowboy saw something in him
Nobody else in that salebarn saw.
So he dug deep in his pocket,
Could only find a hundred, but he offered it all.
It was enough, and though the ring man
Looked at him like he was a nut,
When the others were ran out,
The gray was turned aside for the cut.
It took some time, sure didn't happen overnight
The gray bucked often and wasn't willing to give up the fight.
But with a patient and kind but firm hand
The gray came around to the will of this man.
Ten years later, together they'd covered a lot of ground.
A lot of kids learned to ride on that horse,
And in the Roping Arenas
He was named World Champion All-Round.
It's a good reminder never to look at someone
The way the world looks at them; hopeless and scorned.
For the Master sees something in them.
He knew it was there before they were formed.
He too dug deep and offered His all
And on the way to death .. we pray they heed His call.
For once in His possession, He knows the right touch.
For Him, making Champions isn't at all tough.
Lord, give us eyes to see others as they are seen by You,
Do for them, what You're doing for us too.
We need no other god, and we sure don't need luck.
For with the Gentle Hand of the Master
We too .... are learning not to buck.
The Cowboy's Eye 10/13/02 mjm
