Tara Pohlkotte of Pohlkotte Press
Tara Pohlkotte lives in Wisconsin with her husband and two children. She writes about life, motherhood, and memories at Pohlkotte Press. To get a feel for Tara’s work, you should start here: And For Tonight; Pocket of Sorrow, Six feet deep , or Birthing Warrioress. She is a contributing author to two upcoming titles, as well as poetry publications. To keep connected with Tara you can follow her Facebook page for the latest updates. You may also find her Tweeting on occasion!
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I could only see the sharp creases on my daddy’s dress pants flash from behind the pulpit, being barely old enough to see over the pew. I was lulled by the sound of his cadence, the rise and fall of his voice. In the hushed pause when he shut his bible, the sound of the tiny upright piano filled the room and voices rose; so different from one another, but for that small moment in time, united. Within three stanzas, a grown man somewhere beside me broke down. Sobbing, he came to the alter and fell to his knees. It was then that I learned the power of the written word. How groups of people came together around ancient text. How a five-versed hymn could break open your soul. Once you have seen the power of words, I don’t know that it ever leaves you.
And then, as a new mother, I watched as the sands of time ran straight through my fingers, pooling at my feet until I was afraid I would drown in missed moments. I kept journals written to each of my children, moments of our history together that I wanted to keep, frozen, so we could come back to them together, and even if we didn’t remember each one, my love would be scrolled out across pages and pages for them to see.
Just over a year ago, with a click of one shared link on Facebook, I was brought to the site of another young mother, using her words to write down her heart, to share her thoughts; and in that moment I realized there were other people who processed life like I did. I wasn’t alone writing poetry on the back of coloring pages, spending hours at night writing – unable to sleep until I had recorded the way the moon that night broke something open in me. So, slowly but surely, I began to bleed onto a dusted off blog page I’d started but neglected, and wept and laughed as I read words of more and more people out there doing the same thing. Through these blank spaces that we sent our words, I felt shoulders next to mine, and I realized that we are all connected, just as I had been in my daddy’s church. All of us different but united through text, through telling the stories of humanity.
In March, I finally admitted it. I wanted to “be” a writer. Not just a girl who writes, but someone who processes life through words. Who can capture moments inside a mason jar, and who can come along side others on their walk through this life. I am so young on this writing journey; with so much to learn and so many more people to unite with. I am committed to this process, to use words to become more alive. Just as the art of writing rooted my childhood, so now I will document each of life’s blooms.
Beautiful writing and beautiful picture! Loved reading this, Tara. Thanks for sharing!
thank you, Vidya! {what a beautiful name!}
Your story is my story. I’d love to meet. I”m in Wisconsin too.
you ARE?!? I’d love to. Where are you at?
Great post. I love this line: “I wanted to “be” a writer. Not just a girl who writes, but someone who processes life through words.”
thanks Christie, as a great writer yourself, i love hearing from you!
I so identify with this piece, I finally decided to commit to writing and give myself permission to be called a “writer” not that long ago and it is a great place to be. A published book would be nice too but that will be my next dream :).
wouldn’t a published book be dreamy? {and a lot of blood, sweat and tantrums. but for now let’s focus on dreamy 🙂 } – you are SUCH a writer. I always leave your place with a sigh.
Oh friend, its a privilege to walk shoulder to shoulder with you and your words. You are good company, a welcome companion and I love the “backstory” the root story of how your love for words was birthed. In your DNA and woven into you. Love your words.
elizabeth, you are a soul full of so much encouragement, so happy to be on this road with you.
I love how your writing entangles itself with your father’s preaching and the strength of biblical verse. It’s not simply that it’s the bible, it’s that the language of your youth and the power of your memories seeped into your writing consciousness as an adult. And how you understand the words of a young mother writing at her computer screen and the lulling language of biblical verse can have the same powerful effect. It’s a reminder of the importance, meaning, and beauty of our own words. We are all better because you realized that you had to the gift of words.
i think that’s it exactly. life was expressed to me as a child in literary terms. and as i came into motherhood, i realized that’s how my love is best expressed too. all words can be holy, all stories are scripture.
…. Not just a girl who writes…. those words are going to echo in my head all day. Your writing is a bloom all its own. 🙂
thank you so much, Melissa 🙂
It was motherhood that made the words cone for me, too. Something about that ultimate act of creation shook loose everything I thought I was and revealed the writer. I love this, lady, and I love this lady!
“..sands of time. . pooling at my feet. . until I was afraid I would drown. . ” Such a perfect description of motherhood through the eyes of a writer. And your whole journey to writing is divine. Truly Divine. I love you Tara. I look so forward to reading your words I often save them as the last words of the afternoon so that I can savor them. You are crazy talented my friend. So grateful for you.
I am glad you admitted to wanting to be a writer. Your way with words is something that should be admired. You have real talent and I am in awe of how effortless the read always is.
I love this post – it sent shivers down my spine. I love how easily you can draw emotion from the reader and how raw your words always are.
powerful and moving. Capturing moments in a mason jar <3
Absolutely beautiful, as always, ladies. Love.
Beautiful, as always, Tara. My own journey has been so much more circuitous! Only in retirement have I let myself return to the words of a 5th grade teacher – you are a writer. That’s a lot of years of rust that has to be scraped off, but I’m working on it. Thanks for this one.
Beautiful, Tara. Hi Erin!
All my life words have moved me. I saw my life, my thoughts, my emotions in words. I hardly knew how to process something unless I had a word for it. I read more than I played. So, that moment when it clicks, when you feel the power of the written word or dare to say ‘writer’ out loud, is like coming home. That’s how it felt for me when I figured out the writer in me.
You were born a writer. I know it.
So good to watch you unfolding, Tara.
Love the heart that bleeds in your space. 🙂
This is stunning.
Wow, Tara this is beautiful. I love the phrase – who can capture moments inside a mason jar. Sends chills through me. You have done that and so much more. Amazing.