purple floods, my white zip-up-go-go boots,
and any old hat would do...
just let me ride my horse.

anything to get me out of the house and be with animals
and surrounded by nature. i was born that way.

when you are 7, your dreams are beautiful.
when you are 42, and you have those same kind of dreams,
you are now foolish, unrealistic, silly, and a flighty dreamer.

with the birth of my sister's baby girl,
and the birth of the Boho's child,
ive been thinking so much about how
to foster and nurture the dreams
of these babes before us now,
before society tries to squash and
redesign their true rhythm.

and the answer i keep receiving when i
ask how i can assist others to stay true
to that voice deep inside,
is the same over and over again....

the very best way we can teach our children
to follow the song designed for their soul,
is to follow our own. is to not sell out.
to never sacrifice our own dreams for the sake of another.
by doing this, you will teach those who come after you
to do the same.

im not giving up yet, especially now, when these
little souls are going to be asking those questions within
a matter of years...

foolish go-go bootin mismatched cowgirl?
you bet i am.
just let me ride.