Simply So

Often, I only discover what I’m feeling  
when what I write tells it back to me. 
                                  - Pádraig Ó Tuama ( Poetry Unbound  newsletter)

I had a mini experience of this, just now.

It’s after 7pm here on the east coast and I am struggling to write a Tuesday slice for this week. I opened up my journal and re-read my early morning writing, in hopes of discovering something I might share. I feel bereft of ideas and short on time. Today, and the past several days, have been like one long run-on sentence, fun and full and in need of a good editor. 

I found this little nugget from my morning journaling:

orchid blossoms fade
wispy worn angels falling 
resting on the sill

You see, I had watered the houseplants, and, in so doing, I had the gift of watching a spent blossom quietly fall, this lovely slip, slide of a dance. Such a sweet little moment deserves a haiku, yes? 

In the busyness of today, I had long since forgotten this surprisingly slow, languid moment. Surely, this is one of the greatest joys of my morning writing, however aimless it may feel at the time – to discover the forgotten. 

I think I will let this be my slice for this week – simply so.

It's Tuesday and I'm participating in the Slice of Life. 
Thank you, Two Writing Teachers, 
for creating this supportive community of teacher writers.