I am crying for change as the waves lap the Marin headlands and the shores of Baker Beach,
My chest tightens when visions of UItah's Dead Horse Point rush into view,
I am weeping and watching the Sunday crowds stroll down 7th Avenue in the West Village,
My breath heaves as I am transported to the tall grass prairies that wave beneath Montana's Rocky Mountain Front,
My tears well up as orca whales surface and sink in the icy waters off Juneau,
My legs shiver at the sound of Chuck Brown's funky horns blasting at a DC nightclub,
or bluegrass brewed fresh in Nashville,
The cries of a hundred thousand starlings soaring above a coast range grove -
I have never been alive when a true leader has arrived,
only to turn around and say, "Your lead."
Yes we can ...
