Dad's Blue Truck

Dad's Blue Truck

Groovy colors spin above me all around they flicker,
My recessive eyes entranced and green amaze to the heavenly maze,
Crystals randomly shaped in random design hanging,
Moving sporadically round and round to Davey Crockett,
He was born in the wild frontier with freedom wrapped blazen,
A Runaway train trucking through marsh and mountain meadows,
The father of man, the son of God became a theme song from birth,
My father's spirit sang to me as my father sang the hymn of liberty,
The strength of twenty strong men inside humility and pride,
His signature clean without smudge without taint but driven pure,
The tales my dad would tell made me who I be,
Im running and searching,
Still held by tender hands,
From the firm to the divine,
Like the random crystals that hang,
They try to make sense from my senses,
So much of it said to me too many times,
Stuck in the backseat of my dad's blue truck....
The stories my dad told me become mine