MAGA

My mind drifted back over the centuries when men and women struggled over these lands to find a better life.  This land's vastness, bareness, and hardness pitted against their desire to make for themselves a life.  We passed through the Davis Mountains, past Fort Davis, then Alpine, and then the long plains of barrenness, thousands of square miles of heat, scrub, and bare rock mountains, our invitation to Big Bend National Park. I now sit at its gate, Ancient Text, coffee, me, pen.  How many of those before me sat by the fire, with Ancient Text in hand, hoping against hope to be sustained another day till they could find water and land to prosper by.  This is America.  Wild, untamed, vast goodness like no other on earth. Goodness relinquished to only the most hardy, the ones holding to their God and guns, to tame a wildness that could, and often did, kill them.  My mind returned to the present as my lover drove us along empty Hwy 118.  Her grandfather came here in 1919 from Eastern Europe, hidden in the steerage of a freight ship running from inscription by the Czar of Russia.  And here I sat beside her, royalty, really.  Her’s built the America we know today.  God bless America!  Yes, dare I say, we are Making America Great Again. 

Her standing in the Rio Grande