I wake slowly from my long summer dreams, My thoughts still wand’ring down the open road, Merely two weeks since our return it seems, Two thousand mornings since those red rocks glowed. My mem’ries collect into this small ode.
Twelve thousand miles on an edu-vacation, Our family adopted the traveling mode, We stopped at every Ranger Station, Hot springs and canyons our children we showed, No hesitation to go off the road.
Our journeys took us to locations where, We saw the mem’ries of where water flowed, And when the rain threatened us to fill the air, The beautiful desert became land forbode, We scurried quickly to that well-paved road.
We drove through vibrant towns left in despair, Empty shells of cars, last century towed, Left outside to rust no one seemed to care, I cared often to find a clean commode. We found Route 66 – the Mother Road.
We send our kids off now to school with walls, They must learn to read and write and follow code, But as they follow those straight, narrow halls, They dream of mountain meadows never mowed, Their mind’s eyes made rich from the open road.
Hold close your babies, let the big ones free, Imagine rain puddle tadpoles grown into toads. They must get dirty before we can see One day we reap from what we sowed, The dreams made real along life’s open road.
I welcome September, knowing that not a single moment of summer with my children (and husband too) was squandered. And yet, while one might say that the children need to read and write - I have found that reading and writing is a very basic need in my life as well.