When I was growing up, I wrote poetry all the time. I’m talking every single day, sometimes several poems a day. It’s not that they were revolutionary works of wordsmithing, but I loved poetry. I loved it so much that I had to write it or I would think of nothing else that day. So in the spirit of making room for things I desire in my life and pushing towards the person I’d like to become, I dusted off my old friend, the cinquain. The syllabic pattern of a cinquain is 2, 4, 6, 8, 2. For me the beauty of the cinquain is that I’m forced to think about word choice. Here are a pair of cinquains on becoming. Here’s to a new year full of becoming what you most want to be!
Tears slip slide down
Wet bombs breaking my heart
Sobs echo, ghosts of love vanished
Sweat trickles, breath explodes
Weakness flees, strength prevails reaching