I wrote the poem below on Monday, in the wee hours of the morning.
Moments after I posted it on Instagram I had to write this blog post on the silliness that happened before it went up.
I wrote the poem in one go, and then counted the syllables.
I wanted it to be a haiku, so I searched the thesaurus to find words to help me make it a haiku.
Blackbird greets the sun
on the roof, right above me
I sit still, moved
I rewrote the poem countless times, and every time went back to the first version.
I added the haiku to the app I made this image with, changed the background, and pondered the imperfection of the haiku.
Meanwhile, the poem waited for me to see that it is already perfect.
I finally did, and posted it moments later.
I learned that no matter how much you want your writing to be something, it may have an idea of its own.
To me, that is perfect.