discarded childhood dreams and old
My restless spirit stirs awake—and
then the highway calls;
It tempts with whispered promises of
trophies yet bestowed,
And shares adventures which await
upon the open road.
An awesome shell of chrome and glass
stands worthy of respect,
Inviting some to peer inside while
others to reflect;
A key is turned, it springs to life with
rich and throaty roar
And strains at shackles born of
youth in search of something more.
The work is done to pave a way for power
With lessons tightened into place
and attitudes adjusted;
No trace of smoke is thus dispelled nor
Just muscle built upon a mix of
high-grade fuel and air.
Restraining doors are flung aside and
freedom comes to sight,
A gentle mesh of gears is heard and
rolls into the night;
No thrill can give a virgin heart more
reason to rejoice
Than racing, throttle open wide,
towards every gleaming choice.
No shame is felt by those who choose to
cruise a slower pace—
The goal is not to finish first but
be part of the race
And courtesies expected should be offered
first in kind
With pitfalls marked in blind
respect for those who come behind.
Steep tolls are paid along the way for
keeping fancy free,
And wisdom whizzes past the glass,
at times too fast to see;
But faith in God and lessons learned light
up the road ahead
To navigate the moonless nights when
angels fear to tread.
When all good journeys meet the sky, a
Beneath a blazing neon sign
announcing vacant rooms;
No traveler is turned away who seeks the
And dreams forgotten live again at
end of Highway One.