Knowing Who I Am: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Who am I? Father,/
son, friend, writer. Above all,/
I’m a Child of God.

Playing Where Truth Grows: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

Why do I play in/
fields of weeds and tares, when I/
know where the truth grows?

Good people pray hard/
to help us through word and deed./
Let’s help them bless us.
— of President Eyring, weeping April 2 11:20 a.m.

In Wisconsin woods,/
you can listen to prophets /
in flannel and jeans.

I do this, and I/
do that, just like her former/
guy. Sigh. Say goodbye.

It was to be a/
funny April Fool’s joke, but/
God was a day late.

I don’t know that I’d/
ever heard a lone goose call/
so frantic and sad.

Thinking of my death,/
I saw how much I know Him,/
how much I am known.

It’s not Christ’s beatings /
or Cross that sadden me, but/
the pains my sins caused.

On this Easter morn,/
though He is risen, I still/
don’t want to get up.