Catalina's Milky Way Dreams(c) Re- Written 2024 - By The Depressed Poet, Doc Dalton
Shooting Stars and fast moving CarsRumble through the roads of my mindTick-e-ty Tock, the old sounds of the clockSay's it's almost a quarter past nine
The moons surely rising, the stars are a glidingAnd Mr. Sandman is ready to roamHurry off to bed and put your pillow under your headHe might just be visiting you tonight at homeDrifting off to sleep is such a wonderful featAdventures you'll enjoy on your ownMaking new friends on a journey to no endA secrete life that is yours all aloneDon't be afraid of those gobble lee goo'sOr those pirates drifting to sea on their boatsThere's no need to worry there just in your dreamsLike rainbow clouds and cotton candy floatsOh that sky's full of colors of make believe wondersExciting every step of the wayCan't you let me stay for just a little bit longerPlease, don't take my Dreams a wayTo see this through a child's eyesOn the path to where stars brightly beamThrough a different world of twist and twirlsWon't you come to my Milky Way DreamsWe could have so much funUnder an ice cream sun and laugh our time awaySing some M & M songs the whole day longUntil we awake to brand new day
Pluto say's hey kiddo don't get out of bedAs Snakel Puss laughs and says, ah it's OKKKKKKKKPopeye yell's, were gone in a minute after I eat me spinachPoo say's all aboard my Banana Split SleighOh that Sky's full of colors of make believe wondersExciting every step of the wayCan't you let me stay for just a little bit longerWorry not Catalina, we won't take your Dreams a way
To see this through a child's eyesOn the path to where stars brightly beamThrough a different world of twist and twirlsWon't you come to my Milky Way Dreams
Catalina say's, please come join me, on my Milky Way Dreams
Life can be a frightening and uncertain journey. There comes a time when you begin to realize that you have more days behind you than you have ahead of you. That realization has a way of changing a man. It causes him to look back over the miles he has traveled, the choices he has made, and the footprints he has left behind.
Three old cowboys found themselves having those very conversations. They had spent years riding together, laughing together, and carrying one another through life. But now their talks had become quieter and more thoughtful. They no longer spoke about tomorrow's adventures as much as they spoke about eternity.
One evening, as the sun slowly disappeared behind the western hills, one of them finally asked the question that had been weighing on all three of their hearts. "I wonder if the Lord approved of the life I lived." No one answered right away. Instead, they simply stared into the campfire, each man quietly remembering moments he wished he could relive, words he wished he had never spoken, and opportunities he wished he had never let slip away.
Age has a way of bringing wisdom, but wisdom also brings reality. When a man understands that his time on earth is growing shorter, he begins to see life through different eyes. The next morning, they saddled their horses. Their destination was a place they had heard about for years-a lonely cross standing high upon a beautiful mountain. To reach it meant traveling through dusty trails, deep valleys, winding creeks, and rocky hills. It would not be an easy ride, but then again, the most meaningful journeys rarely are.
Old-timers had long spoken about the cross. Some called it a legend. Others called it a miracle. But those who had made the ride said it was neither. They simply said it was a place where a man could kneel before the Lord with an honest heart. It was said that forgiveness could be found there. Understanding could be found there. Peace could be found there. Not because the wooden cross possessed magical powers, but because it reminded every traveler of the greatest gift ever given-the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.
For mile after mile, the three old cowboys rode in silence. The only sounds were the steady footsteps of their horses, the gentle breeze moving through the trees, and the dust rising beneath them. Each man was carrying memories. Each man was carrying regrets. Each man was carrying hope. After what seemed like forever, they finally reached the mountain. There it stood. Simple. Strong. Silent. The old wooden cross stretched toward Heaven as if it had been waiting for them all along.
Without saying a word, the three men climbed down from their horses. They removed their hats. Then they slowly fell to their knees. No rehearsed speeches. No fancy prayers. Just three weathered cowboys speaking honestly to the One who already knew every chapter of their lives. Tears quietly rolled down faces that had long forgotten how to cry. The burden they had carried for so many years seemed just a little lighter. Their hearts felt a little stronger. Their souls felt a little closer to home.
As they stood and prepared for the ride back down the mountain, one of the old cowboys smiled and said softly, "Hope was never very far away." Another answered, "And faith was even closer. "The third looked once more at the cross and quietly whispered, "When you believe in the Lord, the longest journey you'll ever take is only one dusty trail away."
The three old friends climbed back into their saddles and slowly rode home. They knew they still had miles left to travel in this life, but they also knew something had changed forever. Sometimes the greatest ride a man will ever take isn't to another town or another adventure. Sometimes it's one last ride on that dusty trail to the Cross on the mountain. Because hope is only a short distance from faith. And faith becomes even closer when you place your trust in Jesus Christ.. And sometimes... those few short steps become the beginning of forever.
Three old cowboys found themselves having those very conversations. They had spent years riding together, laughing together, and carrying one another through life. But now their talks had become quieter and more thoughtful. They no longer spoke about tomorrow's adventures as much as they spoke about eternity.
One evening, as the sun slowly disappeared behind the western hills, one of them finally asked the question that had been weighing on all three of their hearts. "I wonder if the Lord approved of the life I lived." No one answered right away. Instead, they simply stared into the campfire, each man quietly remembering moments he wished he could relive, words he wished he had never spoken, and opportunities he wished he had never let slip away.
Age has a way of bringing wisdom, but wisdom also brings reality. When a man understands that his time on earth is growing shorter, he begins to see life through different eyes. The next morning, they saddled their horses. Their destination was a place they had heard about for years-a lonely cross standing high upon a beautiful mountain. To reach it meant traveling through dusty trails, deep valleys, winding creeks, and rocky hills. It would not be an easy ride, but then again, the most meaningful journeys rarely are.
Old-timers had long spoken about the cross. Some called it a legend. Others called it a miracle. But those who had made the ride said it was neither. They simply said it was a place where a man could kneel before the Lord with an honest heart. It was said that forgiveness could be found there. Understanding could be found there. Peace could be found there. Not because the wooden cross possessed magical powers, but because it reminded every traveler of the greatest gift ever given-the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.
For mile after mile, the three old cowboys rode in silence. The only sounds were the steady footsteps of their horses, the gentle breeze moving through the trees, and the dust rising beneath them. Each man was carrying memories. Each man was carrying regrets. Each man was carrying hope. After what seemed like forever, they finally reached the mountain. There it stood. Simple. Strong. Silent. The old wooden cross stretched toward Heaven as if it had been waiting for them all along.
Without saying a word, the three men climbed down from their horses. They removed their hats. Then they slowly fell to their knees. No rehearsed speeches. No fancy prayers. Just three weathered cowboys speaking honestly to the One who already knew every chapter of their lives. Tears quietly rolled down faces that had long forgotten how to cry. The burden they had carried for so many years seemed just a little lighter. Their hearts felt a little stronger. Their souls felt a little closer to home.
As they stood and prepared for the ride back down the mountain, one of the old cowboys smiled and said softly, "Hope was never very far away." Another answered, "And faith was even closer. "The third looked once more at the cross and quietly whispered, "When you believe in the Lord, the longest journey you'll ever take is only one dusty trail away."
The three old friends climbed back into their saddles and slowly rode home. They knew they still had miles left to travel in this life, but they also knew something had changed forever. Sometimes the greatest ride a man will ever take isn't to another town or another adventure. Sometimes it's one last ride on that dusty trail to the Cross on the mountain. Because hope is only a short distance from faith. And faith becomes even closer when you place your trust in Jesus Christ.. And sometimes... those few short steps become the beginning of forever.
