To see the places where I am from
Stretches the senses back farther than my birth
Back into the warm waters where I was formed
Back into the waiting seed carried inside her
Carried inside my Grandmother
Who was carried inside her mother
Stretching back like a house of mirrors
Smaller and smaller images of me
In the infinite dreams and prayers
Of my ancestors
I am from tear moistened hands
Crocheting in the rocking chair
A rhythmic longing for the lost jungle
I am from plague stricken evacuations to the mountains
Cooler weather offering solace, health, and financial ruin
Fueling transatlantic boat journeys in search of an elusive
livelihood
Chasing a stolen promise
Leaving all of true value behind
I am from people owned by the land
Owned by their bodies
Owned by nature
Torn from their belonging
By the wounded hands of greed
I am from those wounded hands
Bathing their offspring
In blood
Twisting the god of love
Into the god of war
The god of slavery
Claiming permission to decide who has a soul and who does not
I am from hands held up
Flat to the face of this war god
Voices saying no
Feet walking away from safety and security
Hearts longing for
Remembering the holy source of love
In our bellies
In the rivers
In the mountains
In the trees
In the sky
In the smell of roses
Recognizing the soul
In all things
I am from all things
Praying for the recognition of their soul
I am from Mother Earth
Deciding
Enough is enough
Gasping awake
From dark dreams of what could be possible
If she doesn’t start finding the feet
Of the two leggeds ready
To hear her voice
Feel her love
Recognize her soul once more
