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Mark Bailey
I am from the intersection of Fielding and Fellini,
lifted by airfoil sections, and tantalized by Mozart.
From carrots and celery,
carried by the scent of cooking and enveloped in supportive sensitivity.
Im from cows, colleges and contentment.
I am from Vietnam, and Kent State, Birmingham and Watts,
seven from Chicago, and two from Berkeley.
From the beauty of hope and idealism,
and from the despair of mans unkindness.
I am from Martin and Robert, from Jerry and Janis,
from Ken and Neil and Timothy.
Im from a swirling tapestry of bubbles and begonias,
and rainbows that will not fade away.
I am from sit still, and exhilaration,
from potential and perception.
Assiduous and obstreperous form the mobius strip connecting cognition and my temperament.
I am from children, and of childhood
and the power and prescience of play.
Sustained by the belief that we must all work for change if we expect peace and justice,
I am from the Tantalus of learning and the nakedness of teaching.
I am from the desire to make a difference.
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