I am from the words,
tumbling and falling in
imagination and information.
I am from the people
that I have met,
loved or hated.
I am from the earth,
the dirt and sand and grass
that I have played and sat and rolled and jumped in.
I am from the notes,
splotches littered across the clean page
in a black mess of sound.
I am from the prayer cards of those missed
those who still remain
forever in my memory.
I am from the numerous textbooks
melting my mind,
yet somehow making it whole.
I am from the laughter
that echoes through the walls
with the slightest provocation.
I am from the tears
shed for myself and for the world
that have kept me sane.
But most of all I am from the little things.
I am from the grandfather clock, the black and white shining keys,
the turning pages, the happiness, the dresses,
the dreams, the hopes, the fights, the knowledge,
the friends, the love, the life.