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.