342- The Cowboy and The Moon

This is to someone I owe a story....It's meant to be spoken- like the myths and legends once were. 

         This is the story of the Cowboy and the Moon. 

Far to the west, past the rolling Mississippi and deep in the heart of the American frontier, there are stories of how the west was won by men, men who roamed the range, celebrating the wild of not only the land but also their souls. Far from towns, deep in the pitch black of the prairie nights, these men would gallop across the open land on their mustangs, who like their partners were not natives of this soil but had become one with the spirit of the land which still lived in the Native American tribes, the heart of the buffalo, and the rivers and soils of Mother Earth. 

                This particular story is about one of these men, a cowboy who shunned the towns to wander and explore all the mysteries of this new land. Everyday, he would work under the hot sun, toiling and sweating--living. He was courteous to the land, not wasting, but honoring all that he saw. The Indians across the range knew him and named him He Who Walks In Silver.

                For this Cowboy was the favorite of the Moon, the Silver One. Every night as the Sun set in her blazing glory, tempting the young man with her blushes and her winks, he would turn and watch the sky for the slow ascent of the Moon. As darkness fell and the stars awoke from their sleep, he would lay in the soil and warmth of his Mother and gaze into the twilight. 

    And every night, she came to him, bright and white, innocent and pure. And she loved him, for he did not need fire to see at night, but gazed at her and only her, his eyes never wavering and his heart speaking the language of the ancients. And they loved beyond jealously or doubt or insecurity. Because the Moon was still young and she was still in love with the new wild land that held such spirit in its old earth. And the Cowboy loved because he had never known anything but the songs of the wind, the dancing of the trees, or the blustering of the storms. And he knew that every day, even if the sun was hidden by dark clouds, that his lover would come to him that night, dispelling the darkness and finding him, waiting. Every night was a full moon.

                But the Sun grew more and more jealous as she watched the West flourish and grow and the spirit of the land slowly receded away under the Wild West taverns and the men who rode and pillaged and killed under her eyes. And soon the Sun was jealous of the purity of the night, for no evil dared to stir underneath the full innocent eyes of the Silver One. And the stars knew their sister grew jealous and they tried to warn the young Moon, but she was blind to anything but the Cowboy.

                One day, the Sun grew hotter and hotter until the Cowboy was forced to stop his work, and he settled into the shadows of a rocky cliff and watched his cattle mill around, bellowing in the heat. And the Sun grew hotter, puffing herself up and pushing down onto the land. And Mother Earth groaned and her children cried out to the Sun for relief. But the Sun refused and continued her slow descent until the waters hissed in their banks and the animals cried out in their misery. 

The Cowboy soon found his throat dry and struggling to his feet, he swung upon his horse and left his cattle to their own fate, riding quickly in his attempt to find relief in the form of a river. But to his surprise, he did not first find a shore or a tribe to aid him, but a street that led into a narrow alley between rickety wooden buildings. 

              The Cowboy had come to his first city. And he stared in wonderment at the men as they ignored the pressing heat, swinging back bottles and laughing, calling out to women who sashayed by in their skirts, their skin glistening in the heat. And the Cowboy gratefully stumbled into the nearest building where men emerged, seeming almost mad with relief and laughter. 

           And the Cowboy had his first taste of spirits and he found himself lost in the feeling of relief and warmth, the cool liquid transforming his head from pounding to a floating pleasure. And the Sun was pleased. And she began to set, her majesty flooding the skies with purples and blues. And Mother Earth watched the sunrise in fear, knowing the Sun had accomplished what she had wished. 

For the Sun had known this town was near the Cowboy and knew she would drive him to his first encounter with the settlers, men who had no respect for the land but consumed it like starving beasts. And there among the wild men, there were women. And they were not like the beautiful red skinned, black haired beauties that the Cowboy had grown with, the women who knew Lady Moon and her lover and knew to keep their distance. But here, in the town, there was a different kind of woman, and the Cowboy laid his eyes on her in his drunken mist.

                And he lost himself. For she was the Sun in mortal form, her sun kissed skin glowing, so unlike the tan color of the Natives, and her blond hair sparkling in the artificial candlelight that the Cowboy had never known, and her blue eyes sparkling like the sun in the water. And she saw the Cowboy, and she felt the wilderness surrounding him, so unlike the dead men that surrounded her. And she wanted to taste freedom. 

           So, she seduced the young Cowboy, taking him to her rooms and burning him with her intensity. And all night, the Cowboy was introduced to feelings and pleasure that he had never known in the innocent arms of the Moon, and he forgot his lover as the candles flickered around him and the light of the woman blinded him to anything but her.

But outside in the twilight, the Moon shone frantically onto her sister Earth, searching for her lover. And the stars winked at her, laughing, knowing he was in the arms of a mortal woman. And finally, she found him there, locked in embrace, curtains drawn, hiding from her. And her heart broke and she turned her face from the Earth, plunging it into darkness.

And all around the world, the people cried out as the moon disappeared. And the stars were startled and scared and tried to remain still, but in fear clumped together, causing pictures to form in the sky, and the tribes of Mother Earth gazed into the darkness. One wise woman instead gazed into the heart of the roaring fire that usually was used only to cook but was now used to see. And she waited.

               The next morning, the Cowboy awoke to the Sun’s rays as they peeked through the curtain trying to find him and when she did, she crowed with victory. The Cowboy had stayed away from the Moon and the Moon ‘s heart lay broken.

               The Cowboy left the town to return to the wilderness, and the day passed with memories of the previous night  coming to his mind and shaming him. But he waited to see his lover, missing her for the night that he had lost.

             But that night, the sun set in her purples and her pinks, trying to hold out to see the Cowboy’s face when the Moon did not come. Finally, she succumbed and the stars came out, uncertain. But the Moon was gone. And the Cowboy cried out in his misery, knowing that she must have seen, and he wept. Wept as the wolves howled their own misery and the bats flew blindly in the night, bouncing into each other and the wild cliffs, for before the moon had been their guide. And the creatures of the night all cried out with the Cowboy but the Moon refused to listen. And evil crept into the darkness and began to spread across the land as pitch covered them. And a restless night passed, for the Cowboy refused to close his eyes, searching the heavens for the moon’s winking face.  She did not come. 

                This continued for day after day, unwavering vigilance of the sky until finally exhaustion claimed him and he slept. 

                When he awoke, a wizened head bent over him, crooning the language of the ancients. He bolted upwards, his hands outstretched, grasping for the pure language that his heart still screamed in its pain. But the old woman stared at him in silent reproach. 

                “Drink,” she commanded, handing him a skin. And he obeyed, gulping down the cool liquid before turning his gaze back to her.

                “Grandmother,” he greeted her, recognizing her as a tribe’s seer, and knowing her power to be great. 

                “Fool,” she spat at him,” You have condemned us all to blindness and fear. Your grief is selfish.” And he hung his head in his shame but said nothing.

                “Will you go on your spiritual quest or surrender to the white devil in your heart? Go to the taverns with their fire liquid, women, and thunder?  Or will you follow the path you have created?”

                And looking up at the blue sky, clouds absent from the fierce blaze of the still victorious Sun, the Cowboy gave a nod,” Tell me my path, Grandmother.”

                “Go to the north, travel in a straight line, like the Moon’s beams. And you will come to a grove of trees, here the Great Bear comes down to quench her thirst every night. You must wrestle her until she shows you the path to the heavens. Only then can you bring the Moon back to us all.” And she gazed at him with her heavy brown eyes set in her wrinkled face, rough like leather. And then she left him.

                The Cowboy quickly followed her advice; he mounted his mustang and rode towards the North. For three days and nights, he traveled, stopping only to rest his mustang and sleeping under the Sun. At night, he continued to survey the heavens, looking for his lost lover.

                The day he reached the grove of trees, he dismounted and surveyed the area. A small creek winded through the soil and the trees bowed down to him in the wind. He placed his horse on the other bank and hid himself among the leaves and awaited the night. And as soon as the sun had set, the stars seemed to shiver and the Great Bear of the Sky, left her home in the heavens and descended to Mother Earth. 

                The Cowboy watched in wonder as the silver bear bent her head to the creek, and just as she opened her mouth, he jumped from his hiding spot and grasped her fur in his hands, and began to wrestle her.

                Now the Great Bear was furious in her attack, but the Cowboy stayed out of the reach of her giant claws by clutching the nape of her neck, and avoided her fangs. And they wrestled for hours , her fur glowing like the stars far above. And just as he felt his strength begin to break, the Great Bear moaned out in agony.

                “I must drink. I must have water for my cub or we will perish in thirst.” And she bowed her head, and allowed him to slip off in silence. For a moment, neither spoke. Then, the cowboy sank to his knees before her.

                “Great Sister Bear, I am He Who Walks In Silver and I must ask you to show me the path to the heavens so I may win back the Moon.”

                The Great Bear stared at him for a moment before nodding,” Get on my back, Brother Man. I shall bring you to the path.” And once he was mounted, she drank her thirst and then leaped into the sky.

              And thus the Cowboy was in the heavens, the winding Milky Way the road before him, glistening in black rivers and the stars shining around it like lamps in the night. And they whispered as they saw him walk towards the Moon’s house. But none stopped him for they missed Sister Moon and wished her back.

           Before Dawn illuminated the Earth and erased the Milky Way, the Cowboy saw the house of the Moon in the distance. And he ran, for the Sun was rising and if she saw him before he reached the house, he would fall from the sky, for the path under his feet was only there in the dusk. And his lungs burned and his legs ached, but he threw his hand against the door just as the rays of the Sun hit his back. And he dangled in the sky, hanging from the door of his beloved. But she did not answer his frantic knocking, but sat in her grief, turned from Earth and her lover.

                And the day passed, and the Cowboy through strength of will, held on as the Sun watched in amazement. And the rivers and the creatures of Mother Earth wondered what the dark speck was among the clouds, not realizing they were seeing the Cowboy, fighting not to fall back down to Earth. The Sun’s vanity stung, knowing she had lost.       

               When she did set, and the Cowboy’s feet soon felt the path underneath them and he collapsed at his love’s door. And the tears on his face and the burning in his body and the exhaustion in his mind soon overtake the love in his heart. As his heart broke, his soul cried out once more in the ancient tongue,” Forgive me.”

                The Moon heard his heart and his last words float through her door and she flung open her door to gather him in her pale arms. But her broken heart and wounded pride had cost her her lover, who lay dead before her, as in sleep. And she wept even harder for that. Her face turned down towards the Earth and her tears mixed with the soil and the entire world marveled at her return. And she held the Cowboy as she cried until the Sun returned 

                As the Sun set that night, unsure and uneasy. The Moon turned back towards the Earth, but she did not turn her full face, and every night she seemed to wane in her grief. Until her face disappeared once again from the sky. And Mother Earth felt her children’s  fear and her sister’s grief. So, she sent a crow to the Moon.

                In the moment the Crow landed on the Cowboy’s prone form, he jolted awake as if he had been sleeping. And the Moon in her joy, turned slightly back to Earth. And every day as she spent the time in her lover’s arms, she turned her face a little more back to Earth until the night when she was once again the shining bright white moon, full and whole. 

               But there was a catch to the miracle. The next day, the Cowboy fell back into death, and the Moon once again waned in grief, until she was gone from the sky. And then on that morning, he awoke. And this continued every night. And continued today.  For tonight, she wanes in her grief. 

                And the West was won and Cowboys disappeared from the land. But there is still the story of the Cowboy and the Moon. And now, He Who Walks in Silver is known as The Man in the Moon. Full moons became the sign of lovers as she watches over them in her joy, held by her own lover.