Welcome Home. We are ALL One.
Here is a collection of family immigrant stories from across our human experience.
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It’s not me, it’s you
It's not my accordion that moves your feet aimlessly
It's your smile that makes me want to sing
It's not my rhythm that gives you permission
It's your welcoming of my drum
It's not my question
It's your answer
Not my song
But your open ears
Somewhere in you
there's an accent
and it begs to be unleashed
A melody that our grandfathers chanted round the fire
an urge to untame
Don't condemn my wrong-notes as I a stumble through this keyboard
I promise I won't stare at your two left feet
It's not me being tired, poor or yearning to breath free
It's you making feel home