I went on a nature walk with my creative writing students a few weeks ago. A week of lazy afternoon suns had warmed up the little bit of winter we received here in Texas, and Spring was vividly pulsing through the air. The Texas mountain laurel had just put on their blooms, and the smell of grape kool-aid made me light-headed as we walked the trail behind our school.
We had begun to study haikus, and it seemed the perfect day to experience the birth that nature gives to writing. After our brief repose, we came back and wrote haikus about things we noticed the world was saying to us. It has been almost a month since then, and our work with haikus has undoubtedly improved. Here are a couple I wrote on that first day:
Mister Butterfly,
what are you doing here, sir?
Your flowers sleep still.
Breathing quiet life
like frozen pond lilies do –
Silence calls to me.
Unbound 
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