My Identity Poem

Hey Readers!
Today I'll be writing about my identity in a form of a poem, hope you enjoy.

I am from coffee, from Folgers and beans.

I am from the tree on top of the hill, the sun shining through the leaves.

I am from the fern bush, the oak tree.

I am from family dinners and quiet people, from Nawang and Tshering and Tenzing.

I am from the stubbornness and impatience of my family.

From the desperate times.

From be quiet! and be happy!

I am from namaste, and other prayers I can say.

From the life my grandpa lost climbing a mountain, half of his soul is still up on that mountain, and the time I almost lost my life on a mountain.

I am from shelves of family memories.

I am from the limbs that branch out from the family tree.