Road to Rainbow
Jerusalem in my rear view mirror and in my sights. Im driving down south through the blue ridge mountains to the rainbow gathering in Arkansas by candle lights. Old friend down the road calling, calling me back, welcome home. Cheep coffee, cheep sunglasses and gospel tunes. Endless slathers of concrete pass me by, mile makers in the corner of my eye. I feel at home on this open road beneath an endless sky. Truck-stop sits like an ancient fortified shelter town, with gaping monoliths, along some historic trade route. We the pilots of the inter-outer-State sit in greasy diners and grant our terrain battered eyeballs a moment of breath. Welcome home.