March Haiku

My friend Sarah suggested we write March Haiku. I've always felt that writing poetry was beyond my grasp, something that only specially gifted people could do, but this seemed doable, and I've had fun trying to put my impressions into brief lines of syllables. Each haiku captures a moment in time during this past month. I smile inside as I reread my poems and am taken back to the look and feel and sound of when I wrote them.


What I really like is that this is one more example of how I'm feeling freed to try new things, not worrying that it's no good or that people will disapprove. I'm realizing that the process of learning to write is valid, just as I've found that the process of learning to paint is valid. And I suppose that's just like the fact that the process of growing up is also valid; not only valid, but necessary. One doesn't start life as an adult, and childhood is not inferior. Being a child is a important prerequisite to becoming an adult. And THAT gives me much to ponder...

March Haiku

moths flutter to light
swamps resound with frog love songs
life stirs and springs forth

chased by raucous jays
the red-tailed hawk builds a nest
preparing for young

squirrels flit and jump
from branch to branch overhead
chasing and playing

cat stalks mourning dove
crouching still, whiskers twitching
birds erupt skyward

leaf by leaf it dies
the pretty Christmas orchid
while native plants thrive

first red-wing of spring
alights on tall grass and sings
declaring it his

late flurries frolic
briefly airborne, reveling,
destined to melt soon

morning dew shimmers
bird chorus proclaims spring joy
March leaves like a lamb