I am from the wilderness,
And all the hidden treasures wating for me to find,
The bears tumbling carelessly down the canyons,
The steady hand reassuring me that I would be alright.
I am from the canyons,
Deep crevaces engulfing the worn paths I made,
The forts erected from worn apple bins well past their prime,
The firm hand dealing punishment when too far I strayed.
I am from the wheatfields,
Abrupt ends at which I found my prey,
The deer falling \with the force that blew me to the ground,
The excited hand that welcomed me when all was bliss.
I am from the softball fields,
Grass stained uniforms worn like merit badges,
The crowd going wild at the fearless dive,
The tender hand that dressed my crimson knee.
I am from the dentist office,
The needless teasings of "metal mouth",
The visits to the principal's office with skinned knees,
The light hand that laughed when they saw the other kid.
I am from the closed bedroom door,
Tearing myself apart over things out of my control,
The boys that shattered all my securities,
The understanding hanf that left the door closed.
I am from the soccer field,
Broken bones that made me feel human,
The quick slide tackles that made the earth my toy,
The cheering hand in support of my passions.
I am from the lazy summer porches,
Listening to the humm of the eratic humming birds,
The glasses of lemonade I drank like a queen,
The spoiling hand that served them to me.
I am from the quenching lake,
Relieving the sun's sweltering rays,
The bikinis and hats worn so proud,
The guiding hand that taught me to keep afloat.
I am from the elementary playground,
Rough housing like one of the boys,
The imaginary games I used to conjure,
The supportive hand that played along.
I am from the painted skies,
Overlooking the Galapagos Islands,
The odd creatures that adorned my view,
The aged hand that showed me these adventures.
I am from the dark games of "kick the can",
Sneaking through the overgrown brush,
The complaining voices telling me they're done,
The aggrivated hand that re-did "ink-a-bink".
I am from the Canadian lands,
Screaming and hollering into this life,
The parents I was blessed with from my birth,
The careful hands who examined their masterpiece.
I am from the many trials I have overcome,
Failing and tripping and trying again,
The tears of defear staining my face,
And the thankful hand for the effort I've given.