Where I Come From                                                            

                                                                                                                                                                By Tess Tyler October 5, 2019

I am from a Dave and Linda,

From a summer swim on a sultry day.

From a block away in either direction

 Where the grandparents lived and stole my affections

From tickles and fireworks

and housework on Saturday’s

Raking of sycamore leaves and

 fixing things up with grandpa till dusk.

Bicycle rides the whole day long, neighborhood friends coming along.

From avocado trees, orange groves and

Puddingstone Dam, the county fair and

Art museums grand, almonds and apricots, artichoke stands.

From vacation drives to San Francisco, where poetry readings were very much alive!

And there are broken dreams where I come from.

Until that day, I was born again, And Jesus whispered, “You now, cannot say”, “It isn’t fair”

The words I used to pout, before He pulled me out of a mired pit.

When I called his name in a terrible fix.

From here the story of where I am from gets better with blessing,

restoration and cheddar.

Of broken bits healed over time, with lots of prayers and tears sometimes.

Where the hope rises up and the miracles flow with blessings of loved ones that we share and know.

The marriage, the husband the children that gave immeasurable treasures from which I am now made.

This is where I come from.