Haiku Diary-June 2021

When I can be fully present with the subject of the haiku I learn something — about myself, about my world, about my mind, about reality. I try to transmit this insight to you, the reader, in exactly 17 syllables.

Photo by Julian Hochgesang on Unsplash

Haiku is a literary form derived from Japanese poetry. My haiku follow these conventions:

1. Three lines, 17 syllables: 5 syllables on the first line, 7 on the second, 5 on the last. There are many who argue that this is an unnecessary and even an inhibiting convention for English haiku poets. Syllables in Japanese haiku work very differently from syllables in English, and so these folks argue there is nothing to be gained by borrowing this convention. I have read many beautiful haiku that don’t follow the 5–7–5 form, but I find it helpful to have a form of some kind, especially one that I share with a community of haiku poets writing in English. As I gain experience writing haiku, I don’t find the form inhibiting. It’s often just a matter of time before my ideas manifest in the 3-line 17-syllable form. I am also beginning to think in 5–7–5 phrases. It’s not unusual for one of my haiku to grow out of a 5- or 7-syllable phrase that suddenly pops into my mind.
2. Following the Japanese haiku tradition, my haiku usually contain a “season word” or at least a “nature word”. This is something I learned about from Clark Strand during the Upaya Zen Center Haiku Workshop earlier this year, which also included Roshi Joan Halifax, Kazuaki Tanahashi and Natalie Goldberg as faculty. Season words can be trees, flowers, animals, clothing, celestial bodies, holidays etc. Using a season words that thousands of other poets are using or have used (e.g. cherry blossoms) forces me to look at my subject in a fresh original way. Anchoring my haiku in season words, or at least in a “nature word”, has also helped me practice (in the Buddhist sense of the word) with the despair of climate change. Despite this frightening upheaval, when I am present with my surroundings, the moon rises, fireflies flash, berries ripen. To paraphrase Robin Wall Kimmerer — “the world continues to offer me joy, how can I not offer her my joy in return?”. Writing haiku helps me touch a kind of deep trust in life, in earth, in the dance of the universe.
3. I am trying to express a unique insight with each haiku. Clark Strand calls this a “turn of thought”. This is the Zen part of haiku writing. When I am fully present with the subject of the haiku in a mindful concentrated way, I learn something — about myself, about my world, about my mind, about reality. With haiku, I try to transmit this insight to the reader in 17 syllables.

So with no further ado — Here are some of the haiku I wrote last month, June 2021. . Please, enjoy! And if you like, let me know which of these haiku appeal to you using the highlight or comment feature.

1.
As if this old earth
could give birth to new stars–
Fireflies streak upward.

2.
Slowly drifting by
Under the bright summer moon–
An empty canoe.

3.
Kwan Yin by the pond,
Smiling as goldfish flicker
Past her perfect feet.

(My friends from CZC may recognize this scene!!)

4.
A red umbrella
Watches the sunset alone
On an empty beach.

(The season word is beach umbrella, not sure its “kosher” to divide it like this..)

5.
Testing with a tug,
Plucking what yields in consent–
Ripe berry harvest.

6.
Summer Olympics!
A squirrel’s gymnastic routine–
Tree branch to tree branch.

7.
Drifting off to sleep,
Leaving the sheep I counted
Grazing on moonlight.

(I am not sure this haiku has a traditional season word.)

8.
A pale moonlike orb–
The morning sun cross-dressing
In billows of fog.

9.
Blue beyond belief–
Above me as I backstroke
Empty summer sky.

( I am pretty sure “swim” is a traditional season word, but I don’t know if “backstroke” is.)

10.
A lone hawk rises
Above the drought-stricken valley
And the grieving hills.

The season words are:

1. fireflies, 2. summer moon, 3. goldfish, 4. beach umbrella, 5. berry, 6. Summer Olympics, 7. don’t know — sheep? moonlight?, 8. fog, 9. backstroke, 10. drought.

Some of these Haiku were written in response to prompts on Clark Strand’s Weekly Haiku Challenge Facebook page. Others have appeared on the Daily Haiku Facebook page. I want ot give a special shoutout to Upaya Zen Center Haiku Workshop taught by Clark Strand, Roshi Joan Halifax, Kazuaki Tanahashi and Natalie Goldberg. This workshop got me started writing haiku, and I haven’t stopped since. Upaya is offering a similar workshop in August!