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Yesteryear Yearnin’

God’s Time, Not Mine
May 16, 2024
Who’s a Hero?
June 20, 2024

We've all heard the regret, “I was born a hundred years too late.” I've uttered that same disappointment many a time myself. Some of that yearning for life in a simpler time has undoubtedly been induced by unrealistic, Hollywood fiction or wistful imagination. Yet, there is an unmistakable draw to a time of greater freedom, essential self-reliance and, yes, romantic adventure. Down deep in his bones, a man hankers for fewer distractions; a life in which to prove, if only to himself, that he can provide for his own, to protect and sustain.

Yesteryear Yearnin’

Was I born a century late?
Or is my yearnin just Hollywood?
Oh I'd give my last nickel
To roam  some open range if I could

Punchin’ some cows can-see to can’t
Sleepin’ under starlit black skies
A good pony ‘tween my legs all day
Most days' adventures a surprise

Was it really that great Lord?
Well, it was created by You
My heart yearns for the bygone days
When your creation was still new

Days when a cowboy could ride
As far as the eye could see
Then get up once more tomorrow
Doin it all again, bein' free

Livin’ off the land with grace
Drinkin’ water flowin’ pure
My strength and spirit tested daily
The limits of what I can endure

In those wistful days back when
The prairie was an endless sea of grass
Now it's sectioned and crossed
By fencin' and pavement in every pass

Too many big cities now-days
They are crammed with people too tight
Causin’ disdain one for another
Ignorin' what's wrong and what's right

Put me on a good pony Lord
With warm sunshine on my back
Maybe a little flowin' stream
By a simple log-cabin shack

Your beauty has been broken today
By man's sin-centered ambition
You created, said it was good
Now it's largely beyond recognition

Oh I know You put me right here
For bein’ of use in a time such as this
But I crave just one yesteryear moment
For my rockin' chair reminisce

Take me back for a week Lord
Let me live it with my own eye
I wanna roam that open range just once
Ridin' Your virgin trails before I die

by Rik Goodell
© 2024 All rights reserved

This Clark Kelley Price painting speaks to me of an unspoiled land and a time when a man felt a sense of direct contribution to his daily existence.

To see more of this artist's work, visit his website:


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