How would I ever get home

if not for this road

with all its potholes?


Sometimes I scream in the dark

when my headlights aren’t bright enough

to light the way.


Or when fog and icy rain

lead me to follow random taillights into ditches

and even over cliffs.


Or when road blocks and construction

force me into

desolate detours.


I call out to You

and with your love,

the mist clears

and the byways return

to the Mother Road.


Now I can see the horizon

studded with sandstone mittens

and granite ships.


The valley of gilded cottonwoods

rimming the Rio Grande.


The red-tailed hawk scribbling circles in the sky,

and the pronghorn churning dust on the prairie.


With the pavement threading out to infinity,

white dashes disappearing beneath the hood

and this full tank of gas,

 I know I can go anywhere.

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