Dear Lord, Maker of Obstacles:
I need to get where I'm going.
I would have liked to get there sooner, but it appears that this is not Your will.
And yet, I cannot help but remember that You split the Red Sea --
How hard would it be to carve a lane between these crusts of metal
And move me toward my Promised Land?
Nonetheless,
I will take this unexpected bounty of time
To ponder Your creation.
I will peek into other cars
Visit the small universes
Of the other commuters
Send a wave of compassion their way
Hope to avoid the finger
The gun
The expletive
The curse on all my people
To swim up this stream again
Tomorrow.
--Mr. Gobley
1 comment:
This is a great story. i'm reminded of a time, shortly after I got my driver's license, when I was driving an unwieldy parental wagon and accidentally cut of a motorcyclist.
He pulled up next to me at the light, smiled politely, and motioned for me to roll my window down.
"Hey," he said, "did you see me back there?" I thought the correct answer would be "yes" -- i didn't know I'd cut him off -- so i answered in the affirmative.
He made a motion as if to punch me. i think he was faking, but i'll never know, because i took off and never looked back. It was bad timing all right -- mine.
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