I love words. Mostly I love being curious about them, their origin, learning their root and how people use them. Early in my life I never knew how to spell them, so my curiosity was necessary just to get a better grade in school! Later my curiosity about words was born more from my desire to connect more deeply with what I encountered in the world by understanding the words we use. In this way, the growth of my own curiosity about words mirrors the growth of my curiosity about plants and nature.

Once, during a moment when I was reading a book and reflecting on an experience of mine that brought up a lot of grief, sadness and wonder, I looked up to see a dogwood tree standing near me and noticed a leaf blowing in the breeze. It looked as if it was waving to me! I have always loved how moments with nature bring up whimsical thoughts and a sense of playfulness from within my heart. 

Later that evening, as I integrated the grief and sense of awe I felt about how my life had unfolded, I wrote this series of haikus. 

Dogwood leaf waving

Is it in distress? Or could

It just be happy?

Dogwood leaf waving

Stricken, it hangs by a thread

Wind whispers, let go.

Dogwood leaf falling

Floating softly, to the ground

It's life continues

Differently though. It

feeds the earth, what is to come

It returns again

Compost. Tilled. Memory.

Sad. Hope. Dashed. Again. New. Wait.

How long? Long enough.

I can read this series today and remember all the circumstances that existed in that moment. The lines from this poem have continued to surface during other moments of grief and sadness, wonder and awe. These words are like a friend- a friend who remembers the details I have forgotten and shares them back with me, along with a hefty dose of grace that helps to bear the weight of the past by pouring into it a sense of beauty that is at once both painful and pleasing.

I don’t know how these poems of mine would be judged by a master poet. But that isn’t the point. In that moment of reflection, what bubbled up from within me found words that are as meaningful to me now as they were in that moment long ago. 

An Invitation to Connection - Writing Haikus with What Bubbles Up

Haikus are as simple as they are profound. Their 3 lines & 17 syllables are limiting enough to keep your thoughts contained and focussed, and limitless enough in the way that words always are. Next time you’re feeling what bubbles up within a moment of connection with nature, give it a try. 

3 lines, words or phrases that are just 17 syllables long

first line: 5 syllables

second line: 7 syllables

third line: 5 syllables

If you would like more instruction on how to write a haiku, I found this post helpful.