Where am I from,

An interesting question you ask.

What does it mean to be from a place?

Is it where you’re born? Where your family lives?

Or is it where your heart is?

I can answer all of these questions,

 But I believe we are made from our history

Our history is where we’re from

 

I’m from a Jersey home,

An irish kitchen

filled with the smells of a home cooked meal.

I’m from the back end of a shot gun,

The trigger end of a Remington bicentennial.

I’m from a warm day in the garden,

Knee deep in dirt and new life.

I’m from a cold winter night,

Surrounded by knitting a good movie.

I’m from a brisk fall morning,

And a cup of strong tea shared with friends.

 

I’m from a sweaty gym,

Surrounded by sparkles and bows,

And white pointed toes.

I’m from a hard day at school,

Followed by practice and more “school”.

I’m from a backyard barbeque,

And a goodbye hug that’s never too long.

I’m from a tell-tale smile and a warm embrace.

I’m from loving arms and a forgiving God,

I’m from a little town next to a major city.

 

Home is where the heart is,

My heart is with my family and friends,

In the memories we’ve made,

And the memories we’ll make.

That’s where I’m from.

               ~Harley Curran