He Chose the Highway

He chose the feast with fine wine over the garbage bin in the din of the world;
He chose lighthearted dancing rather than prancing through all of the rubbish;
He chose bright light, even amid the night, instead of fright in dæmonic blight;
He chose the pasture of tall, lush grass rather than pass through the wasteland,
And to drink from the cool, clear stream and beam with an heavenly gladness;
Yes, he chose to live an alive life instead of merely persisting in simply existing;
But he does shed some tears as he hears sad cries and sees those but living lies;
To know that one so near and dear lives in fear of losing what she never had . . .
Oh! It tears his heart apart like a fiery dart to his soul,
Which is otherwise a bowl-full of joy, peace and love!
But he has chosen the higher way, to live in the day all along this way of live life;
And pray . . . yes, he prays for the day his loved one will be set free into liberty,
But he cannot turn back to gloom and doom to save her; he is surely not a knave
Though brave he may be; he is wise enough
To know he has no place in such dark show;
So he continues along the highway in the brightness of numinous day every day,
And rejoices in the sunshine, laughing, singing, and glad to dine with fine wine!


2 thoughts on “He Chose the Highway

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