I was telling stories before I could read,
Gathering the adults in my grandma's front living room
And telling them self-invented legends of polar bears.
I started off life an explorer
Crawling beneath barbed wire
Finding animals, plants, and bones.
I was a faerie among farmers and city-folk
Wearing flowers in my hair.
I valued the crickets
Awaited fireflies
Nursed mice back to health
Hand feeding them cheerios.
I was a hugger of trees and dogs.
I was a seeker and spreader of knowledge.
I had salt water in my blood.
I lay in the grass, the forest, and the sand.
I treasured seashells, feathers, leaves, and sand dollars in my hands.
I loved listening to the thunder and watching the flashes of lightning
At night I was a comedienne
Exchanging jokes with my sisters in our rooms.
I danced to the music and sang with the tunes.
I came from strong, educated women
There was no question that I would be one too.
Where am I going?
Where am I going?
Where am I going?
I'm trying to go where I've always wanted to go
But I think I'm lost.
The maps and compasses point different directions
And all routes seem to lead to dead ends.
So I will ask the question again:
Where am I going?
Where does the journey end?
Prompt: taking inspiration from Safia Elhillo's "Origin Stories" we are to write a poem of our origin and where we are now.
Sharon
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