Last fall I packed my bags for a better opportunity.
Putting my failures behind me called for a change of scenery.
But sometimes I miss the Texas sun when it rains in Birmingham.
But I know growth cannot happen in infertile land.
Nine hundred miles of distance between where I am
and where
I used to be.
Friends are hard to come by when your disposition is meek.
Flaming sunsets replaced with steep winding roads.
Seeking all that will satisfy a wrestling soul.
Everything changes with time; nothing stays the same.
Moving on and breathing new terrain.
