I breeze by, wind in my face with a smile,
And I have to admit that I feel at least a little superior,
To all those poor people stuck in their cars,
Bumper to bumper, mindlessly moving, isolated and lonely.
Humble me, O God!
Remind me that each car holds a person, sometimes more,
And even though I cannot see each person,
Help me to understand that each one of these persons is made in your image.
Let this time, stuck in traffic,
Be strangely rejuvenating, a time to breathe within what is likely a busy day,
A time in between one thing and the next,
And cover each driver with your peace.
