Time with you, my darling,

seems seamless.

Tomorrow and yesterday and today

are all the same.

And all wonderful.

But Christmas this year

has come too soon.

And time is a stallion

breathing fire and regret,

a bronco no cowboy can ride.

The gate has opened before I’m ready

and we spring into the arena,

sun-fishing and crow-hopping,

with my feet flailing stirrupless.

My dreams are lost as I lose my seat

and I come crashing back to earth.

Eight seconds is an eternity

and one never reached.

The best I can do is look up to you

from the dust of my failure

and my best intentions

and pray that you understand.

There is but one redemption

for a cowboy thrown by time

and that is the love and forgiveness

of your arms

wrapped about me in an embrace

that denies time and failure.

When I’m in your arms

all things are possible.

There’s no horse that can’t be rode,

no saddle too hard,

no dream that can’t be realized.

Time and life have thrown me

more times than I can count,

left me broken and hopeless,

despairing of ever riding again.

But you stooped to raise me

and conquered in the stooping.

I am yours for all time,

riding the stallions that can’t be rode,

hoping to be the rider you want me to be,

praying that I won’t let you down,

dreaming of your arms around me.

Christmas, my love,

has come too soon this year.

I have no golden buckles for you,

no winner’s pot of gold.

All I have for you is my love,

redeemed by you and strong again,

mended by your faith, your forgiveness

and your love.

I mount again the stallions of time

and dream of your arms

and of Christmases not come too soon

and pray that you will still be there, waiting,

when my ride is through.