It was 1PM and I was somewhere between Van Horn and Valentine, TX on US 90. It was a magnificently warm, dry sunny day. As I continued heading southeast, I decided to get out of my truck, sit on the gravel and stare at the beautiful Guadalupe Mountains. In the forefront was a ranch where a lovely, unique, yet lonely windmill glared back. As I felt its gaze, I lied down on a patch of grass, where I thanked God for His grace and felt inspired to write this.
Home on the Road
A bird begins to fly
Into the windy, mysterious sky
Overlooking majestic mountains
That helped lay the fountain
To this glorious prose
Written on a sprawling road
This Road is Highway 90
But it would not matter if it was 20
I am where I belong
On the asphalt pavement whistling God’s song
No comments:
Post a Comment