I am from a chrysalis,
from alarm bells and asthma,
early arrivals and a long stay,
vital curiosity in a plexi fence.
I am from dappled daydreams
through tree-walls and van windows,
wide eyed, third eye, blurry-eyed, pining.
I am from a no-outlet haven,
a sequestered realm of conferences with
fir-armed, raisin-eyed sun-melted chaps,
icy castles ten stories tall,
archeological digs to China.
I am from tutus in the dark,
the lonely, damp cocoon.
All I hear is my own breath.
I am from the adolescent scream that split me apart.
from a smithy of fire and ice,
born aloft in the mist,
learning to fly in the meeting of foes.
I am from chicos who know pain better than I,
theology lessons in a garbage dump,
houseless sisters who just need a shoulder.
I am from turkey stuffing for the misfits,
rooftop vodka with the vagabonds,
intentions of family and no conditions.
I am from a kiss in a sunny field,
a kiss in a darkened room,
a kiss in the shadow of His wings.
Dame un beso. Dame un beso.
Fool for God – God is love – fool for love.
Love is transitive.
I am from paradox.
Inspired by George Ella Lyon’s poem Where I’m From.