I always deeply desired to be a writer, so this post really caught my attention. I came across it on the Revelry Press website. This site is published by Kate Minear Sorenson, a friend from high school and I asked her if I could share this idea on my blog.
The post provided a simple to use template (below) that I could use to do something I never thought was in my wheel-house. Write a poem.
This writing project that Kate featured on her website, not only challenges you, it provides a simple way for you to step out of your comfort zone. Something many experts say we should do every day?!?!
So, I have decided to gift myself this poem for Mother’s Day this year. The template helped me express myself and write my first poem, outside of the standard “roses are red, violets are blue” type. It helped me dig a little deeper and encouraged my creativity, while providing me an opportunity to share more of who I am with my clients, friends and family.
Below is my poem and a template that will help you write your own.
Poem Template: WHERE I’M FROM
First, here is the template:
I am from ___________________ (specific ordinary item), from __________________ (product name) and ___________________.
I am from the ____________________ (home description… adjective, adjective, sensory detail). I am from the ___________________ (plant, flower, natural item), the __________________ (plant, flower, natural).
I am from __________________ (family tradition) and _____________________ (family trait) from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).
I am from the _______ (description of family tendency) and _______ (another one).
From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).
I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.
I’m from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family). From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail, and the _______ (another detail about another family member).
I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).
WHERE I’M FROM: Jennifer Herold Garcia
I am from the freshly cut green grass in Colts Neck, made that way by Scott’s lawn care products and the smell of them that hit you when you walked into Becker Hardware.
I am from the exciting open woods near my home with trails the neighborhood kids maintained better than the park system. I am from the trees I climbed, the streams I walked and swam in and the smell of skunks and dandelions that I still yearn for. I spent endless hours playing Monopoly, school and ‘business” in my neighbor’s basement next to the berry bushes we ate from.
I am from mass on Sundays and holiday meals with lots of boys. Meaningful discussions and debates and lots of great stories from immigration to Ellis Island, to the glory days of Asbury Park and tales of faraway cousins. From my Aunt Flo to Uncle Eric and Cousin Karen. They have the gift for story-telling.
I am from the deep sadness of loss and ability to understand that everything is temporary. From never giving up to living in the moment.
I am from Roman Catholic roots that run deep in my heart. Which have taught me to stay on the right-side of God and treat all people the way that you want to be treated.
I’m from Germany and Austria, with a little of Jersey Italian too. Sweet white corn, Jersey Apache tomatoes and freshly picked sweet strawberries. From the farm stand down the road.
Lots of fun times with cousins and friends traveling down Highway 34 to Spring Lake’s beautiful beaches. Watching my brothers and cousins in their Birdwell Beach Britches, surfing and playing in the waves. Me, staying close by to my mother, always by her side. Then coming home to a fast supper of hamburgers and corn in the backyard.
I am from a life filled with constant learning and gratefulness. From memories tucked away in the 70s photo albums in my mom’s closet and home videos my brother Steve resurrected. To the pictures that fill boxes in my own basement from happy adventures in my twenties with wonderful, meaningful friends. To the digital images of the life I have made today.
