I, not Me

I am what I am.
Born with big brown eyes wide open
A full head of rain girl hair
Long Indian fingers, scrawling and strong

Feet that wander to the kalimba beat of a distant star
And a tongue that can spark a phoenix wildfire.

The sea and the earth came together for a night to make me.
It was the Renaissance of a Greek demigoddess, long laid to rest in myth.

I do not fly, I do not swim,
I wait for three eons before I strike.

I am not a serpent, a bird, a metaphor, let alone a saying.
I am what I am, what I have been, what I always will be.
Now for the work, it awaits me.