Its a highway. But not a highway as you know it.
This highway is small in comparison to many others.
But its no less busy than highways you have seen.
What is a highway anyway? Isn’t it just a way called high because of large amounts of traffic pulsing through each day?
Its normally wide and long to accomodate the to and fro.
However, the highway I speak of today is the street I live on. While it gets its fair share of motoring traffic, what makes it a highway to me are the people.
Everyday they pass me by. Soldiers marching to a drumbeat.
Each soldier moving to a drumbeat of his or her own. Here comes one now. Its a young lady in white and green. She wears a backpack. Her drumbeat: school and parents. She seems ok with it all. I try not to stare as she walks by. She will learn well I hope. So that she can continue marching on. Day by day.
Another soldier approaches. He is not alone. His troop marches to the dreambeat of a security firm not too far from my home. Its a different sound and they add to it with bass and tenor. Their voices are all I hear for a while. My eyes have closed, so as to savour it all. Good thing they don’t know I am watching. It might appear very strange.
Another company of soldiers are passing by. More of them in this troop. Younger and more energetic. Their drumbeat dsn’t make itself clear to me. But I can see they know each other. Comrades in arms they jibe and jostle each other along.
These are but a few of the soldiers that pass me each day. A handful of the whole.
Some quiet and others rowdy. All of them represent the same thing. One word echoes through my home. The highway screams it at me all day: LIFE
Inspired and Loved