I am from the black-dotted brown sofa,
From the living room in my home, years ago
And the cool off-white tiles on the floor.
I am from the rose vein in my backyard,
Whose petals were soft and pink as butterfly wings.
I am from the two bangles,
Which both of my grandmas gifted me.
I am from the perfect Buddhist background,
Who could have done anything to skip Dhamma school?
I am from the string hoppers and pancakes,
My grandma loves to watch me eat.
I am from dimples and soft hair
Which are gifts from my dad.
I am from anger and a loud voice,
Which passes through my bloodline.
I am from my mom’s first baby dress,
She dressed me and my sibling when we were born.
I am from the moments of smiles and tears,
From the love my ancestors shared.
By Leo Sathini Weerasinghe
