I am from where the rice is grown,
The weather is fresh, under the feet.
I'm from under a leaf, blanket, and covers,
Smiling face and fire burnt the candle.
I'm from where birds flew away to settle.
Like a seed under soil that needs water.
I'm from this little hand can pray,
And faith lead us like water.
I'm from houses, not a home, and crawling with feeling.
I'm from eight lives, eight minds,
Eight hearts and smiles.
I'm from "don't sing while you eat"
Or the tiger eats you.
I'm from the wind singing, leaf dancing,
And "things don't last forever."
I'm from under a roof but not under a roof,
And even permanent marker doesn't last.
I'm from Hill Tribe house, made of bamboo,
Dirt, leaves, and smoke flying.
I'm from spicy food, wheat fields, green forest,
And strong root.
I'm from looking up at the moon, wishing on a star,
And moving on.
My family is like a watered flower.
When the flower is grown it becomes lovely, beautiful,
And it feels special like a dead tree still growing.
We are a blast of brightness,
To know it is a blessing from God,
Whether we are close or far,
We are a family in love like moon and star love each other.
To read more student work from our Young Authors' Book Project publication, Adventures Within Another, purchase a copy.