A Page From My Book

I am from arid, sandy shores,

and the aroma of soaking, summer showers.

I am from sweet vegetation

that bends on squishy soil,

underneath silent, calculated steps.

I am from defensive palm fronds 

that cannot shield me from a burning star,

lacking shade trees of rescue.


I am from spiteful voices behind locked doors;

from outrageous stereotypes

and labels that can both pull together--

and tear apart. 


I am from blacktop roads

like winding charcoal ribbon;

from performing duets of "You Make Me Feel So Young" in heaven.

I am from sipping tangy liquid out of mason jars,

from harmonizing to broken record classics like a world-class symphony.


I am from turning battered, dog-eared pages,

from living vicariously through my beloved characters:

heroes and demons, shadowhunters and angels.

I am from a world I paint myself,

from a place where love and comfort are found and treasured.


I am from serendipity,

for being thankful that the glass is half-full

and seeing grass the perfect shade of green

that supports a radiant life. 

I am from the souls of other people

as they pour their liquid gold 

into the mold of my very being

and hoping to one day offer

the same life-saving grace.


I am from worlds changing-

from starts colliding;

I am from a place that remains constant 

yet unexplicably temporary.

I am from a time 

where dreams are hope for tomorrow,

and hope is a river that never runs dry.

This poem is about: 
My family
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741