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I am from Songs and Dreams
I am from the sharp crackle of leaves underfoot, fallen from the redwood
tree’s lofty perches
I am from the lean branches rooting itself deep within the sky, trying
desperately to hold the world aloft
I am from the sharp, slashing branches whipping out, confining all but the
determined
I am from the broken and splintered wooden swing, colors fading into the
gritty and rough forest floor
The memory strained and weakening and soon no one will remember
I am from notes weaving together in the song you never wish to end
I am from the artists who wove their souls deep into the music
I am from their songs, still altering life’s course long after they have gone
I am from that haunting song that remains on the fringe of memory, never
within grasp or reason until it fades from memory
I am from the songs never sung, lyrics never finished, notes never played
I am from the sweet, tropical scent with a tang of saltwater drifting
leisurely on the humid breeze
I am from the consistent rhythm of the pristine and inviting waves holding
beat against the surf
I am from the bright explosions of color on tropical birds, flitting from the
trees singing a wordless tune
Each note weaving another chorus into the story of my life that may soon
be forgotten
I am from the prickly and patchy grass in the backyard of my childhood
house
I am from the secret cave of flowers concealed with a bush
I am from the revenge of a water gun paid back with a hose
I am from the hundreds of baseballs lost to the neighbor’s backyard, until
finally lost within shrubbery
I am from the insouciance of childhood chipping away and replaced with
school and work
I wonder what will become part of my life in the future
I wonder what places I’ll see, what things I’ll learn, what mistakes I’ll make
I wonder how every minute of every day can change my whole life
I wonder if my name will live on forever splashed across billboards
Or if it will become like a broken memory, slowly fading out of the world
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