I Come From; #SOLSC Day 3

Using the structure of this poem for writing inspiration today.

 

I come from a tree lined street with once modest homes

which we left each morning to walk to school or play

in the woods that seemed vast but weren’t.

I come from parents who chose me from

a convent where the nuns called me Mary Ellen and my hair was strawberry blonde and wavy, or so my parents say.

I come from years abroad and dinners at home,

from as many new experiences as my mother could squeeze in

and a simple cottage on the rocky New England coast

to which we still return every summer.

I come from questions and statements,

from a father who didn’t have one of his own but somehow knew

how to be his daughter’s quiet hero.

I come from books and nooks where curling up with a story

and finding quiet is necessary.

I come from curtseys and tradition and

a mother who taught me that being naughty is just fine sometimes.

I come from gardeners and northerners

from stories repeated and shared

from feisty, fiercely independent grandmothers and a grandfather I never met

from happy tears

and heart break and healing.

I come from a place where

an open mind, a gentle heart, and faith,

-Heart

-Soul

-Mind

matter most.