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I am like a cool breeze on a hot day;
I am like a flash of lightning
and the sound of thunder in a wild storm;
I am like a light that guides the way;
I am like a little boy running free
through a head-tall field of corn.

I am like a bird flying free,
and singing loud and listening always
for familiar close and distant calls;
I am like a piece of art that is being remade;
I am like the billions of water-drops that make a waterfall;
I am like the light of the stars,
and the hope that you find after searching and reaching
the centre of a maze.

I am like the leaves of a tree;
I am like the clouds of the sky;
I am the one and only me;
I am the one who feels everything
with all my heart, and who is not afraid to cry.

I am either one way, or another;
I do not often walk the line;
I am a believer that every moment
is full of energy and inspiration;
I am a lover who gives all of myself,
all of the time;
I am the space-ship
that travels to many different and distant space-stations;
I am the echo;
I am the footprint;
I am like the perfect white flakes of snow.

I am like the expression of art
that everyone creates when they are a child
in the form of a hand-print in wet paint.
I am the thoughts that fill the silence;
I am the artist that paints the infinite picture;
I am the question mark at the end of a sentence;
I am always living and hoping for what awaits in the future;
I am a man filled with fascination;
I am the one who will never give up,
and who will keep trying over and over, time and again;
I am surrounded by perfection;
I am who I always am, no matter what day it is, or what time-
no matter if it is a Saturday afternoon,
or a Thursday morning at 1 a.m.

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When you are in your own world
and you need a little ‘pick me up’
there is no more powerful motivator
and instigator and reason to nod your head,
to tap your foot, and move your body to the beat,
to the music, and to the words of a great song,
your favourite song, your happy song,
and you can always tell when someone has found that song
and is listening to it and is being controlled by it
every time with the sight of a smile
and the feeling that you get from a look.

Whether in a club, or in a pub,
in a cafe, or while taking part in a game that you play-
that one song can be like nothing else on Earth,
and can truly sing and speak to your heart;
that one song can get you through a bad time in your life,
and can touch you deeply,
because its meaning and importance is so sharp.

That one song can make you smile;
that one song can make you cry;
that one song can make you keep pressing redial;
that one song can take you higher than high.
That one song can take your breath away;
that one song can make you shout;
that one song you can be singing to yourself all day;
that one song can make you melt.

There are songs that are special and unique for a reason;
there are songs that are constantly played and replayed
until they literally become a part of the public consciousness;
there are songs that are for a life-time and not just for a season;
there are songs that are better than all the rest.
There are songs that get you through a grueling work day;
there are songs that help you to drift off to sleep;
there are songs that carry you all the way;
there are songs that you will always love,
and the lyrics of which you will always keep.

Music is a phenomenal gift that should never be taken for granted;
music can be your passion, your love, your salvation,
your place to go to when something is wrong.
That one song, that one piece of music can be poetry to the ears,
to the mind, and to all of your senses,
and its place in your life can grow like a tree
that begins its life the very second
that it is touched by that first drop of water
at almost the instant after it is planted-
and that is why every song, especially our favourite songs,
should be cherished and remembered,
and that way they will forever be our song.

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On a morning walk down the city high-streets,
passed countless people, passed shops,
stores, restaurants of all names,
I am stopped in my tracks instantly when I see
a Golden Gunslinger reading a book
while sitting at the foot of a tree.
I’m not sure how long he had been there,
I’m not sure what he was thinking,
but when I looked at him looking down at his book,
to me, the gunslinger looked
as if he didn’t have a care in the world,
and it seemed as if to the gunslinger
the rest of the world could carry on their way
because he was lost in thought, in state,
and frozen in time, but like a performer at a carnival,
the gunslinger sat with a tin pot
just to the left of his right boot
asking politely of his generous passer-by
for a token of interest, fascination, respect,
and a thought to show that they care.

I sat in-awe of the gunslinger on a bench nearby,
and I even took a picture-
I felt like I was looking back in time,
or as if the gunslinger had been transported to the future,
to our present-
and as I sat looking at him, the sun shone brightly on him,
and made him glow even more golden,
and he looked even more amazing than he did before,
and even the sky above looked even more blue.
I thought long and hard about approaching the gunslinger
and putting some money in his pot,
and I wondered what he would do if I did-
would he lower his book? Draw his gun and take a shot?

The incredible living-statue of the gunslinger
that mesmerised me, painted head to toe in gold,
in himself was a work of art-
he was so brilliant to behold,
because as soon as I saw him I was instantly transported
back in time to my childhood,
and my fantasies of wanting to be a cowboy.
The Golden Gunslinger was like a living photograph
of a time of adventure and a reminder of the heroes
and out-laws that fill the stories of the Wild West
that once was in America that for so many
still holds a special place in their heart;
The Golden Gunslinger reminded me of how care-free
and amzing it is to a child, or someone who acts on and follows
their instinctual passions-
whether you are a man, or a woman, a girl, or a boy.

As time caught up with me,
even though in all the time I was sitting there looking at
the gunslinger he did not move an inch,
I realised that it was time for me to move on.
I decided to approach the gunslinger and give him a coin
from my pocket to repay him for his time,
his inspiration, his generosity, and his golden spirit,
and even as I got closer and closer
he still didn’t look up or look away from his book
and didn’t for a second flinch;
and then, as soon as my £2 coin hit the rest of the coins
in his golden pot and made a sound,
The Golden Gunslinger suddenly came alive
and he looked up at me-
he lifted his left hand to touch the rim of his Stetson,
he looked right into my eyes, and I saw him smile
without him having to move his lips at all,
and he bowed his head slightly,
and it was in that moment that I smiled too
in appreciation, and I too began to shine as the sun shone.

As I stepped back the gunslinger reverted back
to the pose in which I first saw him,
and he immediately went back to his prefered-posture
of reading his book, at-ease against the base of his tree;
while I turned to my right and continued to walk down the high-street-
I didn’t look back, but I knew and I was so glad to have met him,
to have given him my time, and for him to have given his time to me
and to everyone who saw him, because he reminded me
in lots of ways of myself, and he was obviously someone
of great patience and a deep-thinker.
I promised myself to capture this moment that would never come again
in as much detail and with as much meaning as I could,
and I also promised that I would never forget
The Golden Gunslinger.

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