I Am Where I’m From

I’m from the red blood of my mother, the nurse

From the optimism things could always get worse.

Through my veins run chips and silicone

Of my father’s computers and strong, healthy bones.

I’m from the pitch of printer’s ink,

From so many dreams I can’t sleep a wink.

I’m from my bookshelf, the paper and words,

Here, there, everywhere, all the worlds.

I’m from the big sky of the dry Midwest

From St. Patrick’s, Christmas, and Oktoberfest

From the land of baseball and fireworks

From a family with more than its fair share of quirks.

I’m from and found in Christ alone.

I’m from someplace that’s not my home.