In the cab of a truck on a highway vast, Jesus drives through memories of the past. His eyes on the road, heart heavy and sore, He contemplates loneliness, forevermore.
The hum of the engine, a constant drone, Mirrors the echo of feeling alone. The miles stretch out like the sands of time, Each one a verse in a sorrowful rhyme.
He recalls the manger, the humble birth, When love seemed abundant, filling the earth. Now the world’s grown colder, hearts turned to stone, He wonders if anyone feels as alone.
The radio crackles with a distant song, A hymn of salvation, where do we belong? But the lyrics fall flat in the empty night, A prayer unanswered, a flickering light.
The stars above, silent witnesses all, To the tears that he hides, lest they should fall. He thinks of disciples, now far and wide, And the love he once shared, now pushed aside.
Through towns and cities, past fields and farms, He longs for the warmth of welcoming arms. But each stop brings only a fleeting face, A brief encounter, a touch of grace.
The road ahead, an endless line, A symbol of a journey, both human and divine. He whispers a prayer, a plea to the skies, For strength to continue, for faith that flies.
For in this truck, on this lonely road, He carries a burden, a heavy load. Yet he knows in his heart, through the darkest night, That love is the beacon, the guiding light.
So Jesus drives on, through dusk and dawn, Finding solace in knowing he’s never truly gone. For every mile traveled, each lonely breath, Brings him closer to love, transcending death.