The Duck Pond Splash Down

My roots run deep through London’s land,  
Where family tales like ancient oaks stand.  
As stars within a constellation, their deeds I heed,  
With every step, their voices sow the need.

In tapestries of closely woven suspense,  
A thread tugs sharply at time’s defence.  
A journey, a pilgrim’s path well trod—  
From pews to peaks, alone I nod.

Balancing on a trip-wire, juggling varied roles,  
Steps laden with a myriad of goals.  
Exhaustion speaks, yet resolves to never yield,  
To craft through life, the keyboard my only shield.

At last, I lounge; layers laid bare to the pith,  
A spirit freed, yet deeply knit to kin and kith.  
This identity, uniquely carved, is solely mine to hone,  
Love-forged, a foundation through which I’ve grown.

We are bound by blood, to Earth and its plight,
To forests and oceans, under the same starry light.
Our kinship extends to every leaf, every breath,
A guardianship fierce, facing even death.

In every whisper of the wind, in every tangle of roots,
In every migration, in every season's new shoots,
You find your family, a global tribe, bound by care,
United in the Love, an inheritance rare.