I am From

I am from grammar, from Saxon, from freewriting
I am from the branching firs, the frozen swamp,
From the grass filled pool, the flanking forest
I am from a computer at two years, and games till four hours
From VSauce and Neil deGrasse Tyson

I am from fighting my brother with sticks then pipes
From shadows with swords and tabletop gaming
From a tribunal of voices that Sigmund knows well

I am from Chinese food on Christmas Eve,
And ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas
I am from Yellowstone, Custer, and Bryce,
From music in the back seat
I am from the town of the cat for my age in years
From my sister’s needless worrying
And my brother’s incessant questioning
I am from a trust in the Potter and His masterful hands
Strengthened by a chaos in His house

I am from the cupboard downstairs and old news articles,
Telling how my great grandfather sold diamonds,
And my great grandmother traveled the world

I am from these moments
Growing slowly from twig to branch
Bearing fruit on this young fig tree

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Hero to Villain

“Do you know what a candle is, General? It started as a string, free and flexible. It could be used for anything, but then it is taken from its world of comfort. It’s straightened out and covered in molten wax. The wax dries, and the string is restricted. It now has only one purpose–to light up a small, insignificant part of the world.

“Do you know what a hero is, General? It started as an ordinary man, free and flexible. He could be anything, but he is taken from his world of comfort. He’s attacked and put into extraordinary, chaotic circumstances. He can be nothing but a hero. He now has only one purpose–to save some small, insignificant part of the world.

“Do you know what a fire is, General? It started in control, a small candle perhaps, but then something happened. Someone knocked it over, perhaps by accident, but perhaps not. It falls over. The small controlled flame frees itself, and it can burn anything.

“Do you know what a villain is, General? It starts as a hero, saving his small part of the world. He could be great, but then something happened. He is knocked from his high horse, perhaps by accident. He falls into darkness. The great hero frees himself from expectations, and he can burn anything he wants.”