Soft tender willow
Yet rooted like a great oak
I wish I could be
Darkest hidden cove
Vast green meadow bathed in light
Both worlds call to me
There’s no black and white
My moods swim in bright colours
No fixed paradigms.
Also suggested was to write the poem with a fixed syllable count.
I have chosen to use the traditional haiku syllable count of 5-7-5 in all the 3 verses above.
Have you ever felt like you can’t predict your own moods?