D
Where I’m From
I am from a lucky four-leaf clover,
All leaves secured to the stem of our parents
Each splitting off into fields of their own
I am from the open meadows of Pennsylvania,
Breathing in fresh country air
Giggling my way through an endless corn maze
I am from the final songs I hold so dear,
In my life, I’ve loved them all,
Though the man dangers, toils, and snares
I am from the stories once read every night,
The heartfelt promises made in Love You Forever,
And the ever-true reminder that one kitten is most certainly not too many
I am from my grandfather’s gentle reminders to keep your elbows off the table,
And my mother’s philosophy to just remember who you are
I am from the little boy standing on the table,
Singing that simple tune about birds he learned in school
Starting generations of a passion for music
I am from the beautiful music which flows from within,
The black and white keys that have become an extension of myself
And the years of harmonies I have been selected to sing with
I am from the hours upon hours spent in the old van,
Passing evergreen after evergreen
And the mountains visible in the distance
I am from the alluring sunset,
The campfire songs,
And gallons of ice cream
I am from the blue-cushioned pew
And the red and blue books,
Because if He is for us, who can be against us?
I am from the dream built by a poor Dutchman
Who had merely a few cents in his pocket,
Yet a pocketful of hope
I am from the deaths and the almost deaths,
The floods and the last times
The final goodbyes and the ones that never had a chance to be said
I am from the boxes of scrapbooks in the closet,
The photographs that we kept on the fridge,
And the basement of past memories that I will never forget
I am from them all. Emily Bekas, ‘20