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