From inside a box, high above the ground on which I travel,
peering through a plate of glass.
I watch this world, my world, your world go by.
Ever vigilant to what is happening around me,
I have seen life anew itself
and death at what could be at its worst.
I have seen love and kindness that lightens ones heart
and makes life worth living.
I have seen hate that could blacken a soul and take that life away again.
Always moving at a rapid pace, never stopping
but for what seems to be a few moments in time.
The sun rises from the black, only to fall back again.
It leaves me alone in the cool night air,
with only the ever present humming from the beast beneath my feet
which aids me along my way, and the sound of the wind being forced
around me as I hurry along, the many paths that I have to follow.
The days pass like the miles that I cover, rapidly and unknowingly aging me
without a care to how long I have been here,
or how long I will be here.
The seasons pass like a few days in a week;
spring, summer, fall and winter.
One never seeming to last as long as it should.
There are many around me hurrying to their homes to be with family and friends,
never caring where I have been, where I am going,
what I have brought or what I have taken.
Some just want me to get it there and to move along.
To others I am in the way,
wasting their precious time.
If they only knew how precious that time at home with family and friends is,
and that we, the men and women in the boxes, are like the blood that
pumps through their veins, keeping them going and alive.
For without us, there would be hunger, death, and mass confusion
as all would come to a halt.
Perhaps then time would stand still long enough for me to take a breath.
Yes, I am a truck driver. Though mostly a thankless job,
I knowingly do what must be done from inside this box
for my survival as well as yours
