I'm driving south on the state highway
when I see a sign,
handmade and tacked to a tree
by the side of the road
that says 'Jesus take the wheel'.
And it gets me to thinking,
what does this cliché phrase actually mean?
Do these religious zealots
posting their weird,
sometimes misspelled, signs
at the side of a highway
believe that Jesus could handle
being behind a V6 engine and
who knows how many horses?
What would he make of the windshield wipers?
How would he handle going so fast
after traveling by sandal
across desert so many years?
To canvas in yet another town full of lepers,
hoping to be able to see a vision
he could speak of-
to approach the people
with a viable miracle,
he would have to walk for days,
just thinking on this,
hoping and praying
that his Daddy in the Sky
would bestow upon him some kind of sign
that all of this walking was worth it.
And now, two thousand years later,
to give us miscreants these cars,
the brains to invent these cars,
these roads,
these networks of towns?
What would Jesus do?
April Ridge lives in the expansive hopes and dreams of melancholy rescue cats. She thrives on strong coffee, and lives for danger. In the midst of Indiana pines, she follows her heart out to the horizon of reality and hopes never to return to the misty sands of the nightmarish 9 to 5. April aspires to beat seasonal depression with a well-carved stick, and to one day experience the splendor of the Cucumber Magnolia tree in bloom.
No comments:
Post a Comment