Where I'm From

I am from old books, from worn tents and new computers. I am from the loud, the unbalanced, the too-cold. I am from the soft, the comforting, the warm.
I am from the peaceful green moss, and the death-raging rivers.
I am from midnight oil and early-risers,from Carolyn and Linda and Clark.
I am from the laughers, the healers. I am from the cryers, the destroyers.
From Santa Claus and evil mountain owls, from Sunday mornings with cinnamon rolls and clean church buildings, from Monday nights, stiff and comfortable by turns.
I am from England, from Germany, from Scotland, from melted ice cream and hot spaghetti.
I am from running away in the bright afternoon, from whispering stories in the dark night, from all alone in the pouring rain.
I am from the dusty garage, boxes never opened and never thrown away. I am from shiny mantles and broken frames.
I am from all who came before, from everyone and everywhere.
I am from myself, what I choose to hold inside.