Today it is April — my favorite month of the year.
Because of birthdays — my own and my sweetheart's.
And because of the weather.
And because National Poetry Month offers up an excuse to write and read poetry round the clock.

So.
Welcome to another year of daily haikus.
Join me — either as a reader or, write your own!
It will make you happy, I promise…

When you've been in a long, deep drought, the earth responds with the most incredible giddy vigor when it finally rains. 
We've had nice easy soaks a number of times this winter and now it is a riotous, colorful spring. 
Flowers push through every fence and line the highways; folks wear them tucked into baseball caps and lapels.

But, also flourishing?
Weeds.
And backyard bamboo.
And pollen.

HAIKU 1
4/1/2012

weeds sprout overnight
green grass yellows with pollen
I am my yard's fool

I talk to my kids about feeling — and recognizing — their own feelings. 
I talk to my students about writing emotional truth — and how that's often more important than "fact". 
I believe in emotional authenticity.
And paying attention to what we feel.
I believe that what we feel matters.

As an adolescent and a teenager, I put up all sorts of walls. 
Actually, I put up walls inside of fences behind curtains.
(I probably only effectively hid things from myself, but there you go…)
It seemed like the thing to do. 
(There were a lot of "messages" out there.)

But one of the great joys of being over 40 is wearing my heart on my sleeve.
Pouring stuff out — on the page or around the dinner table. 
My kids think of me as a crier. 
And they're right…

BY TONY HOAGLAND

Read the rest here….

And read all the other wonderful Poetry Friday entries here…

Happy weekend, friends.
Namaste.

When you have children, nobody asks you if you're prepared to help with biochemistry homework.
(Or even if you know how to change a diaper, but you figure that out.)

(Nobody asks an author if she's prepared to become a marketing guru,
or a teacher if she's ready to double-up as a therapist, but there you go.)

Before long, we find ourselves doing what we weren't prepared to do because we have to.

Covalent bonds and ionic bonds and the families that make up the periodic table.

I sit there, wishing it would all come flooding back, but it doesn't — it's as if I've never seen these words before, I learn from scratch with my daughter, and thank goodness for Google and friends who are scientifically savvy, thank goodness the 13-year-old goes off to school today prepared to take her science test. 

BY DAN GERBER

Read the rest here.

Visit Poetry Friday here.

Thursday, Gratitude 21

I am grateful for air travel.

Even after boarding zillions of planes, multiple flights every single year of my life, I cannot believe that I can hop on a plane in Austin, Texas, in the morning and — by that afternoon — be bowling with cousins in Wisconsin. It's kind of a Christmas miracle, isn't it? 

It brings to mind this video that I think we should all watch now and again. 
Right? 
Everything really is amazing.

Friday, Gratitude 22

And speaking of those cousins.
Wow. I'm blessed with extended family that isn't actually all that extended.
We're tight, intimate, and so interested in and amused by and happy with each other. 
The whole slew of us.
And if that's not enough, I'm blessed with that kind of family on both my maternal and paternal sides — aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews scattered the globe over but there for each other in all the most important ways.
I love you guys…

Saturday, Gratitude 23

I'm sitting here looking at a nearly-frozen lake and a dusting of snow. My Tall One is baking a cranberry-apple pie. Yesterday there were two hikes, multiple hops in and out of the hot tub, lots of reading, a couple of naps, and some Christmas carols.

I love vacation.
I love tradition and I love twists on tradition.
I love lights and trees and big meals and I really, really love holidays.

I know Christmas can cause stress and shopping mania and over-commercialization and all that.
But it can also give us a really good excuse to gather, to pause, to celebrate goodness.

May you all, in whatever tradition you live and belong, enjoy the spaciousness of this season….

Gratitude 19 — Tuesday
My kids love school but boy-oh-man am I grateful for winter break.
Exchange a few candy canes, hug the teachers, and hit the road.
We are ready for a new pace for a couple of weeks.
A lazy pace.
The end of alarm clocks. 
An emphasis on card games. And naps. And giggling. 
So grateful.

Gratitude 20 — Wednesday
The word grateful isn't really big enough to encompass how I feel when my husband gets a clean CT scan.
Cancer's in the rearview mirror.
Breathing big. 
So grateful…

A day of thanks for dear Jote,
mastermind behind the 30 Days of Gratitude.

Baker.
Photographer.
Friend.
So much to so many.
Generosity personified.

Thanks, Jote, for reminding us all to wake up, look around and take note of all that is good in our worlds…

It was a lovely weekend here. 
The right mix of festive and mellow.
Some of the mellowness was forced, I'll admit,
by a twisted ankle which meant no long runs or errand sessions.
I'll take it how I can get it…

Gratitude 16 — Saturday

I know it's the thick of the holiday season, a time for fancy food and drink and clothing, but today I am grateful for grocery-store sushi and Netflix. Because there is something about being really happy and comfortable in your own skin and your own house on a Saturday night.

Gratitude 17 — Sunday

I began Sunday with a group of women on a hill overlooking the lake, singing in the solstice. (The solstice isn't 'til midweek this week, but Sunday is when we could make it work…) We sang rounds. We sang African and Cherokee tunes. We sang with a dog twisting around our legs. We sang without song books, and a happiness at how many lyrics we remembered anyway.

And then I ended Sunday at a mostly-spoken-word performance called "What's Wrong with the Holidays." It was irreverent and hilarious and moving and really kinda brilliant.  

In between, we hosted our annual gingerbread house party with a dozen kids and a lot of candy — equal parts architectural genius and sugar-driven silliness.

So I'm grateful for how many varied ways there are to mark this season, and I'm grateful for the community I live within, making it all not just appropriate but right…

It is winter here in Austin, Texas.

Laugh all you want, but truly —
the seasons have changed.

The skies this week are a constant papery-white — a non-color, really.
The rain gauges rise and the temperatures fall.
The beds and baths are so warm and right.

Which makes me even more appreciative than usual of my running partners, my workout pals, the folks willing to join me (or twisting my arm to join them) at 5:30 in the morning, in the dark and cold (and, truth be told, the heat of summer too) to get our heart rates up and our sweat broken. I don't know how I've been lucky enough to find you guys all these years, but I do know that I wouldn't be out there day after day after day if I hadn't. 

With you guys, it's not just for the exercise. It's for the humor and the conversation, the comaraderie, the fresh air, the energy, the rising sun and the setting moon. I cannot imagine a better way to start my day…

BY E. ETHELBERT MILLER

(Read the rest here…)

(Poetry Friday is here…)

Not to be all old-fashioned on you Words-with-Friends folks,
but I'm grateful for Scrabble. 
Just the simple board.
The wooden letters.
The way kids (and husbands) will try to pretend any letters smashed together equal a word.
I love a night when the rain is dripping steadily off the eaves and the cats are asleep in a pile of laundry (so we best not disturb them to fold it) and there's nothing to do but play a game of Scrabble. 
Don't you?

I'm so grateful to share my parenting journey
with so many thoughtful, loving and funny people. 
What would I do without you all as support and sounding boards?

I was reminded of the wealth and value of this community tonight, at our middle school, when the smart and empathic Carrie Contey spoke to a library full of parents about teenagers and stress. There was Carrie, offering scientific explanations, good ideas and just plain old understanding, and there were all these moms and dads — some needing Spanish translation, some with little ones still at their knees, some chuckling about their adolescents and some pulling their hair out.

But nevermind all that. Because we were there altogether, for a few hours on a dark and rainy night, and when you go home after something like that it is not alone, but in good company. Which is, I think, the point…

Grateful for good company….