I am from country roads and open spaces.
From corn fields and the shoreline of Lake Michigan.
I am from my grandparent’s farm.
I’m from the sunrise peeking over the hill.
Oatmeal in the morning.
Metal grate clanging open, wood into stove.
Morning news up loud downstairs,
Upstairs snuggling under layers of blankets.
I am from love.
I’m from woodcutting bees.
From mashed potatoes with ketchup and a coffee drinking child.
From uncle’s teasing words, ‘it will stunt your growth’.
From 7 sets of aunts and uncles and dozens of cousins.
I am from family.
I am from sunsets over water.
Beach chairs and book in hand.
I am from book sales and libraries and love of history.
I’m from yellow legal pads and fountain pens.
From a love of words.
From classical music and pianos.
From grandmas and grandmas of songwriters.
I am from words and water.
I am from deep roots.
Stone monuments, names carved into history.
Local. State. National.
I am from passionate activism and passive determination.
I am from Quakers and colonials.
I’m from William and Rachel.
From pioneers and the non-violent and those who hid slaves.
I’m from 200 years of local land.
From cemeteries filled with ancestors and kin.
I’m from rootedness and family pride.
From distinctive traits and dominant genes.
I’m from Michigan and England.
I am from The Quaker Line, but not only.
I’m from those who unwittingly played a role in
The Indian Removal Act.
I am from conflict and contradiction.
I am from a sense of place.
A sense of belonging.
I am from deep roots and deep love.
I am from ocean crossings and mountain passes.
From pioneers who moved to settle.
But not severed.
I am from
I will go.
A new favorite song that I think fits the theme well.
Linking up with SheLoves for their I Am From synchroblog.