Roots

By Kayli Harley, TIWP Student

I am from doctors, story tellers, and empaths
The quiet, the spirited, and the feeling. 
I am from travelers, homebodies, and the in between
The curious, the known, and the content.
The creators and the created. 

I am from people. 
A complex tree of tales
and triumphs, 
of pitfalls and pains, 
of those who lived
and lived good. 

I am from blond and brown hair
crystal blue sight and dark wood visions,
long, thick eyelashes and
eyes that listen.
 
I am from a grey breathless birth
turned red hot sass, 
from giggles and goofy 
expressions that ruined
every family photo. 

I am from slow down!
and risks always taken, 
quick tempers and
curiosities to awaken.
 
I am from red jumpsuits,
baseball caps,
and snow boots,
a gape-toothed smile
on a video recorder. 

I am from words and worlds, 
unreachable yet tangible, 
from people and places I will never see
but cherish all the same. 

I am from travels and journals,
continents and countries,
an expanding world 
stretching endlessly now in memory and
dreams. 

I am from the dock of a lake
where the mountains pick up and roll over,
where love is declared and
children take the leap. 

I am from the view from a window, 
where the sun says goodnight
and the mist says good morning, 
where the trees meet the wind and 
the grass is warming. 

I am from crisis and change,
from questions never to be 
answered and the discomfort
of knowledge left drifting. 

I am from the urge to speed up, 
to live faster and live hard
while time remains slow and sweet
like honey dripping from my chin. 

I am from the places I have been
and the people my heart will love, 
from the moments behind
and the years ahead. 

I am from life, 
from particles of stars
and a tree with Saturn’s rings, 
with black holes in my eyes 
and an atmosphere for wings. 

I am from a bang.
 
I am from a string of coincidences.
 
I am from a name long ago written.
 
I am from the roots, 
but I am reaching. 

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