I am from my childhood
blistered by barefeet
born from summer mornings and autumn afternoons
I am from the age of my house
crippled by the creaks of the porch
chipped, like the paint
I am from my family
brightened by the sight of my sisters smile
broken by the sound of my mothers tears
I am from my dreams
captured by fragments of fantasy
constantly, blissfully dreaming
I am from the world around me
breathless at the sight of the sunrise
carelessly clouding the straight lines of my life
burned by the agony of loss
and forever in awe of the Earth
I am from the world, and one day I will return to it.