The Highway Is My Home

 

 

The highway is my home, and the door is open always,

   Its spacious rooms are bounteous, though none have lock or key;

They open off the many miles of paved and unpaved hallways,

   And home am I in any one, no matter where I be.

 

Sweet Mother Earth’s the cornerstone on which my home is founded;

   Its roof is but the wide blue open sky above my head;

Its pillars are the towering peaks by which my rooms are bounded;

   The river’s course the plumbing where my thirsting spirit’s led.

 

My recreation room is in the playgrounds of the nations;

   My kitchen’s in the fertile fields and farmlands everywhere;

My dining room’s adjacent in its natural location:

   The land of milk and honey where the table’s never bare.

 

I bathe in salty oceans, and the rainfall is my shower;

   I cleanse my soul in mountain lakes, and rinse neath waterfalls.

And in my garden I have every grass and tree and flower,

   And I pass awhile among them there whenever nature calls.

 

My home’s so very well conceived, the floor plan needs no changing,

   Beneath my feet its carpet, soft and mossy greenery;

So finely is it furnished that it needs no rearranging,

   And for pictures on the wall I have the passing scenery.

 

It’s painted with the colors of the sunrise in the morning,

   The sunset in the evening, and the rainbow in between;

So masterfully rendered that it wants no more adorning

   Than a full moon’s beam from time to time to lend its ghostly sheen.

 

And as for entertainment,  I need only stop and listen;

   Every creature has a song to sing, each element a sound;

A symphony of music while the shifting seasons glisten

   In a real life moving picture show that plays the whole world round.

 

The highway is my home, and the door is open always,

   Its spacious guestrooms bounteous, though none have lock or key.

Come visit me down many miles of paved and unpaved hallways;

   I’m ever home, but never know in which room I will be.

 

The highway is my home, and the door is open always,

   Its spacious rooms are calling me, inviting me to roam;

They open off the many miles of paved and unpaved hallways,

   And home am I in any, for the highway is my home.