Where Does the Highway End?

Recently Emma Grace asked me this question, "Where does the highway end?" As you may imagine, this question was enmeshed in our discussion about outer space, heaven, just a few light topics to chat about, huh?! I was reminded of one of Sam's favorite books of poetry, Where the Sidewalk Ends, by Shel Silverstein. Here's the poem:

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

I loved Silverstein's wacky poems as a kid; as a parent, I worry that the creepy face on the back of the book will stalk my children on the internet. Oh, to have the carefree heart of my youth again!

Anyway, back to Emma's question...Where does the highway end? She wasn't speaking metaphorically - she's precocious, but doesn't speak in figurative language just yet. We have to have something to look forward to in First Grade! Well, I know that 95 ends at Key West. What does it look like where it ends? Ben asked. Well, the Caribbean Sea, I suppose. I hear there's lots of chickens in Key West, too. I think I can smell the peppermint wind or maybe that's Key Lime Pie.

More than pinpointing a location, I love that my kids are pondering the infinite things of life, the deep questions of life that we adults think we've figured out, or don't bother thinking about. More on this later...