I am from the grass,
from dirt and leaves.
the roughness under your feet
when you decide to go without shoes.
I am from my mom’s gardens,
filled with green hydrangeas and invasive bushes.
I am from high in the trees,
looking down on everyone
seeing glimpses of the sun poking through the leaves.

I am from flowing silk,
and the metal pole attached.
I am from the “fake-it-till-you-make-it”
and impromptu solos, not mistakes.
I am from the hard work and sweat,
from the accomplishments as rewards.
the memories you create,
and the friends you find along the way.

I am from the other side,
far away, with a vast seas as a barrier.
a crowded country,
where it all started.
I am from wonderful people,
as well as a new beginning.
I am from America,
the opportunities I’ve been granted.
I am from two places, opposite poles.
from the one where I began,
and the one I call home.