peace full change

it's been a week of bleck on all levels:  a cold/flu that has invited itself in and is having such a good time that it refuses to leave; weighing all kinds of future options and having 0 wisdom as to which way to turn; Easter is coming down upon my head with an avalanche of notes and the weather has supported all of this with wild thunder and hail and snow and brief showers of sunbursts. 

Chaotic.  Jumbled.  And oh so weary.  I was going to post new poets every time I post a poem in April, but this one arrived in my email on Tuesday and fit so perfectly, that I am sharing.

it's not change I'm after

The way a haircut can reframe a face. The move
to a zip code that gets less fog. More or this
or less of that – I can think of a thousand ways to prove
my eagerness to trade the current reality for its
fresh and scrubbed alternative. It’s so tempting to believe
a transformation of even minor proportions will be epic,
felt somewhere in my deepest deep. But in the interim, we grieve
for what we don’t or can’t have, and that ache
is paralyzing. I see it’s not change I’m after, but peace.
Tranquility and rootedness for everything that craves release.

-Maya Stein