I am from the wooded hills, from the orchard with gnarled trees and the bubbling creek below.
I am from the little white cape atop its incline with flickering white lights on the windowsills and blue stones along the drive.
I am from the apple blossoms, the white fields of Narcissus and the endless blue Forget Me Nots.
I am from South African tradition and of Dutch colored skin.
I am from Henwoods and the Vander Kraats, from Edmay and Pauline.
From legacy and from loss.
I am from conversations 'round the dinner table and from dreams under the stars.
From running in the African sun, swimming in the Indian Ocean and from walking to school in New Jersey, playing music and studying mechanics.
I am from new found faith on desperate knees. From poverty and promise. From immigration and sworn citizenship.
I'm from both the Empire State and the Green Mountains. From cinnamon pancakes and sweet Durban curry.
From the school teacher, the secretary, from the soldier, the engineer. The children of apartheid and the parents of hope.
I am from the boxes in the cellar with pictures worn and torn. From long distance letters with stories of the years. From sunrises and snowflakes, meteor showers and fishing trips. From earth, from sea, from miracles.