I am from thread and needles,

from a warm bed, and freshly washed clothes.

I am from the worn, brown-bricked townhouse in quiet Olney,

just outside of the heart of Philadelphia.

I am from the Chinese chives grown in the backyard,

the Atlas Cedar which stood firm in the ground

Whose long limbs I remember as if they were my own.

I'm from dancing dragons and hilariously obnoxious laughter,

from Dung and Hannah.

I'm from stubborn mules and storytelling

and from house cleaning on the eve of the first day of spring.

I'm from "I love you" and "Simmer down"

And "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" sung at bedtime sweetly

I'm from family board games played until late into the night.

I'm from the land of opportunity and the home in the hearts of generations before me

bánh hỏi and bún bò huế

From the voyage across the ocean

that lasted for endless days to foreign land

stacks of undusted photo albums and my grandfather's out-of-tune guitar

up in the untouched attic

lay the nostalgic memories of precious lives that molded me

I am from planted seeds ready to grow into success

success which shall continue to be harvested by those after me