Each of us has something we’re good at. Some of those talents are obvious, like being able to tap dance or perform open heart surgery. But I’m not talking about a skill that we practice until proficiency is achieved. I’m talking about innate talent. The sort that’s always been there, flying under the radar, until one fateful day when a situation arises allowing it to shine. For example, your aunt, who never sings in public, has an extra glass of white at the family reunion and turns karaoke into a night at Carnegie Hall. Who knew?
Step through door number two and I’ll tell you about my hidden talent.
December 2, 2025
Haiku, do you?
No, I’m serious. I have a tendency to think in haiku format. It’s not something I do consciously, but when I make observations, either in my mind or on paper, I notice that familiar pattern of syllables.
I had no idea that there was a name for this until the third grade. My teacher taught us about a form of poetry that originated in Japan and was a way to express ourselves through carefully chosen words. The trick was to make sure there were a certain number of syllables in each line. Needless to say, she taught us about syllables first. I was intrigued. Math combined with poetry seemed like a wild ride.
After she explained, read us some examples, and demonstrated the format on the chalkboard, she handed out sheets of paper and told us to give it a shot. Sitting there at my little desk, butted up against three other classmates’ desks so we all faced each other in a square, I noticed something. While my desk mates struggled to get their haiku off the ground, one hand trying to write while the other counted off syllables, my paper was effortlessly filling up. The pattern was natural, and my thoughts flowed out through my pencil. I flipped the page to write more.
I guess it was obvious that I was in the zone because my teacher snatched up my page and started to read my haiku aloud to the class. I was pretty sure this would not make recess conflict-free but being the youngest of five and tall for my age, I could hold my own.
I wrote mostly about horses and rainbows in those days. I was fascinated by the Wizard of Oz and spent most of my spare time on horseback. My haiku may have been naive and predictable, but it was haiku, nonetheless. As it turns out, I worried for naught. My friends and classmates asked me to help them write their haiku as we sat under the jungle gym at recess. Who knew that haiku had the power to entrance 7-year-olds?
So, when people ask me why I write so much haiku, I shrug a bit and tell them that I didn’t choose the 5-7-5 life. It chose me.
I think in haiku
I don't know why, but I do
I'm wired that way
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