a sweet Haiku

The other night I fell asleep reading Krista Tippett’s: Becoming Wise: An Inquiry Into the Mystery and Art of Living. In the chapter about Words, one of the “raw materials” of human existence and “breeding grounds for wisdom.” She includes her conversation with John Paul Lederach, an esteemed global mediator and Notre Dame professor, who had "gotten very interested in the connection between poetry and peacebuilding.”

He spoke about listening for haikus in every day conversation, that “aha moment” that simplifies and unites, that often comes out “very close to, if not actually in the form of, a haiku.”

I learned about haikus in elementary school, and have had a quirky appreciation for them ever since. Something about simplifying poetic thoughts and the challenge of hitting the 5-7-5 syllable marks.

The other day, while driving with my not-yet four year old, his partial haiku broke through our conversation so very clearly, and I knew exacly what Lederach was taking about.

The second line, after digging into his post school snack-of-the-day, is all his. The top and bottom bun of his cute simile are mine:

SweeTarts with my son

The blue tastes like pointy ice

Somehow. It makes sense.

Oh, the sweet, simple, colorful words of a young child describing a new experience. And a mother’s attempt to remember…in prose.