Chef's Kiss for Haiku Poets
An e-PIE-logue for the 2025 Poetry Pie Writing Challenge
Over the last three weekends, twenty-one poets across America, from ages 8 to 68, captured ordinary moments by writing extraordinary haiku. And that’s only the folks who shared their masterpieces! I know there were more writing behind the scenes.
We wrote about:
blue sky, blooms, and buds
rain, flooding, and remnants of storms
learning how to ride a bike and getting engaged
bird’s eggs, nests, and songs
prayer, worship, and rising from the tomb
full moons and warm suns
baseball games, infinity scarves, and cinnamon steam
great horned owls, gophers, lizards, lions, and snails
waiting for results, Alzheimer’s disease, and missing beloveds
children and parents
labyrinths, porches, mountain peaks, and sandy beaches
faith, joy, and hope that defies logic
Since this is an e-PIE-logue, here are a few closing thoughts as I reflect about the third PPWriC.
I marvel that a three-line poem read in just one breath can contain so much. I am grateful that the process of writing these poems takes me out of my head and into a world that astounds me over and over again. I know. I know. I’m sounding very Mary Oliver about writing haiku, but it’s true!
What’s more delightful is that I am blessed by imagining YOU writing from afar. The joy I get from reading your haiku defies logic!
I’m also blessed by those of you lurking on the edges and merely thinking about writing haiku. Even if your words didn’t make it to the page, it’s still lovely to imagine you walking in the world seeking haiku moments with a sense of expectancy.
I loved experiencing spring in my backyard plus locations in different regions of the United States. Seasonal variety across our vast country blows my mind.
Speaking of variety, I loved writing with diverse humans of all ages. It felt like a kind and supportive little haiku world in our corner of Substack. We need that right now.
With regard to the nuts and bolts of the challenge, I think I’ve got some kinks to work out (like where to post haiku easily and scheduling considerations) so stay tuned for improvements coming next year.
On a personal note, and not to change the vibe of this email, but I was once again writing through death during Poetry Pie. Last year, one of my friends died suddenly during the challenge and this year I attended the funeral of a dear family friend. It’s ironic to me that loss sits right beside cascades of spring blooms. That two things can be true at one time seems to be a theme I’m returning to often in this season of my life.
If you want to print a certificate of completion or any other PPWriC resources, here’s the link one last time.
Please know that I hold your tiny poems close to my heart. I’m beyond grateful that you shared your good words.
To celebrate the conclusion of another successful Poetry Pie Writing Challenge, here’s your recipe for a celebration chocolate pudding pie! Of course, your slice of life poems are sweeter, but a slice of this pie comes close!
Always writing,
Lorrie
P.S. Remember to send me your address if you completed the challenge and you’d like your special present sent via snail mail. (By the way, it’s darling so you really want it!)
P.S.S. Next week we return to my regularly scheduled Substack content. It’s a 1-Hour Retreat perfect for Mother’s Day.
P.S.S.S. I didn’t come up with the clever e-PIE-logue wordplay. Amy Wallen did in her book, How to Write a Novel in 20 Pies. Thanks, Amy.
Thanks for this, Lorrie. I too was writing through grief, my mom passed away in February. This challenge was a sweet invitation to sit and breathe and think about something other than loss.