The Circle

I am from our gentle mother Earth,
my soul founded in her endless green beauty.
I am from beyond the city smoke,
hidden atop the mighty evergreen.
I am from the browning butter,
which carried the scent of sweet, unspoken promises.

I am from the last second shot,
to take home that coveted state trophy.
I am from the cross country fields,
running my only worry.
I am from the coaches yell,
triumphant even in the face of defeat.

I am from the purple heart and bronze star,
forged by my ancestors in the field of battle.

I am from the late summer nights,
filled with the burning fire and infinite laughter.
I am from the Eagle's wings,
since I, too, soar high with freedom.
I am from the fireworks,
celebrating my right to be me.

I am from the pasta and the brick wall,
from the Eifle tower and bitter cold.

I am from our gentle mother Earth,
where one day my soul will return.