I am from the starless sky.
From comforting blankets and warm cups of tea.
I am from the warm and quiet, the sometimes cold and stiff.
From the always filled with laughter.
The memory filled air, bright colors fuse.
It was dark silk, that I could not see.
I am from the form of a willow tree, perhaps the scent of a pine tree; the gentleness of a daffodil and the elegance of a tulips petals.
Wallowy branches of the willow tree, ***** scent of it's bark, the wiltedness of its form.
I'm from the gathering of family, greeting as if we were strangers, where sometimes we are separated
From Sharon and Covington, and the Hills'.
I'm from the bright flames in our chests.
From you are your own, and you hold the power.
I'm from the thought of something bigger, but never weighing my heart down.
I'm from mixed races, ones of different traditions. From the hardworking Africans, the dignified Caucasian, the intelligence of Asians. And many more
I am from life lessons, influences, bad memories, and the joy that some days have.
I am from what I dream to be, what I build myself to be.
I am me.
