In Snow that Flakes in the Summer's Heat

I believe that

Who one is

Reflects where

One came from

Where am I from?

I am someone who is made up

of the precious memories of childhood

Happy and scary comparatively

I a from a home filled

To the brim

With love and gentleness

I am from nurture, protection

Missonaris and artists alike

I am from the heat

Collecting dried skins

From insects

That look like helicopters

I am from playing in the mud

With cousins then going

To Grandma's house

For a bath and some home cooked chicken

And of course, fresh squeezed lemoade

I am from drawing funny faces

From days of teasing and service

I am from a puzzle of a map

Again and again

Until I get the western half right

As if that wil suffice

My lack of undestanding

Of the scribbles on the page

I am from quilting shops

And rolled ou fabrics

Anything from blankets to dresses

Then cut and sown

Stitchd with love

I am from big houses

Large and small bedrooms

Basements to the top floors

Stuffed with family and friends

You cannot go from one room

To another

Without hugging someone

Or asking, "How are you?"

I am from tons of neighbors

Arizona and Utah

And everywhere in between

In the Snow that Flakes in the summer's heat

I am from hand-me-dows

Cousins and next-door neighbors

Saving  money and looking fashionable

On small feet, tall legs, thick hair

And a new smile

I am from picking up leaves and stcks

Until your knees hurt

And pulling weeds from the family garden

Until you cannot feel

Anything in your fingers

I am from sledding behind

A four-wheeled contraption

Pretending to be Santa and his reindeer

Through fields and on roads.

Wagon rides through the sprinklers

On couch cushions

Originating from the seventies

Inside carts made for the

Safe transportation of plants

Not children

I am from a

Children's tiger motion

On top of stretched fabric

And a metal frame

Held together with springs

Until Dawn with extends

I am from make-believe stories

About animals

That look you right in the eye

Just before they open

Then all you see are the canines

And almost feel your bones being crushed

Then digested

I am from new and old books

Picture walks through

Children's and dictionaries

Reading chapter after chapter

Just before your eyelids

Get too heavy

I am from prophecies and the Mount

Of He who rules all

And memorizing important things

Pertaining to His Kingdom

I am from both

The Stick of Judah and Joseph

Of six inch diameter trees

That saved half of my family

On the eleventh day of the eleventh month

I would have never thought of anywhere else

At all

That I would have called home

But the orchards and orchards of trees

Heavy laden

Calling to you in your sleep

Waking up with dream powdered eyes

To see

With hard red and soft orange orbs

At the foot of a green mountain

Those clouds would play on

With their strange hand puppets

Then the Great White North

Beckoned

With an icy finger

And a cool hand

To a place where I,

With all honesty,

Grew in length and width

I am from 77 year worth of love

From Great-Grandparents

Forever and ever

I am from they who love me

I am made up of memories

Past and Future

I am who I am

And that is all I am

And I am glad to be who

I am

To answer the question:
I am from there.