I’m done crying in my beer about love.
My days of riding the shiny brass school bus are behind me as well.
The changes come slowly but suddenly.
One day the sun will burn so brightly it will turn all our seas into vast boiling vats.
Freedom comes from understanding our inability to change things.
So lead me O Destiny whither is ordained by your decree.
Just please don’t force me to vacuum the stairs.
The quiet that follows the storm may be the same as the quiet before it.
Let the wind blow.
Let it blow down each tree on the bright boulevard.
The things I would most like to change are the things that make me believe change is possible.
Copyright © 2010 Suzanne Buffam
Used with the permission of Canarium Books.