My land

Where is my land,
Upon which I played.
With which I sang,
Of flowing rivers.
The dust was there,
The dirt was there.
The insects of yore,
The leaves on shore.
Where is my land,
Which made me what I am.
Which supported me,
Lending glory to me.
Far away perhaps,
Or too near for sight.
In agony perhaps,
Or still glowing bright.
I ask for a response,
I will be waiting for it.
Flowing or stopping,
Where is my land.