Haiku and the still photograph - irresistible
Like the still photograph, haiku are snapshots. I guess it's not surprising that I'm drawn to them. I love to sit and sip a beer while reading haiku by the great masters - Basho, Buson and especially Issa. I've also enjoyed the poetry of the "Zen Fool" Ryokan.
And being a bit of a fool myself, I've taken to writing haiku. Here are a few of my personal favorites. Hope you like them.
And now the wind blows
Stacking against this current
And I go backwards
The bikes are floating
On a cushion of yellow
Eastward into rain.
Furiously now
We paddle our big kayak
Alongside dolphins.
Rhythmic sound of rain
Sends me burrowing deeper
Into this warm book.
The heat of this place
Is made all the more profound
By the rain back home.
Pelicans above
And a school of jacks below
We are in between.
Piercing the water
Hundreds of brown pelicans
Eating their dinners.
Leaving the hotel
We roll away, giggling
Inhaling Holland.
In the dappled light
We are surrounded by green
Just the two of us.
The kelp is swirling
Waving at us from the sea
And so we wave back.
Working on a trip
In my imagination
Friends, and a kayak.
It’s dark after work
But we will ride anyway
Each with our bright light.
Here on the bike trail
A falcon in a puddle
Having a cool drink.
Many tiny plants
Who’s names I may never know
Reaching for the sun.
The city’s silence
Speaks to our collective hope
To be virus-free.
The Myriad Things
Unknowingly ingesting
Bits of forever.
In the Netherlands
This bike path ends in the sand
Rain on the North Sea
Cold flakes are falling
A frozen alternative
To the sogginess.
If we keep going
We could paddle forever
Warm beaches each night.
I’m certain they know
That the humans are to blame
For their destruction
A crow heading home
Overhead, right at sunset
And Mom flies with him.
At summer solstice
A heron hears me laughing
And touches the moon.
Replaced by red leaves
Cherry blossoms line the street
Blown by this wet wind.
A meditation
Brought on by the color green
Along the Hoh trail.
After miles and days
Alone in wild Alaska
We become rock, ice.
The steam is rising
Tea leaves unfurl in the sun__
My day begins well.
Here at the edge
A dead sparrow in the ice
But onward we climb.
Swallowed by the sea
The big orange ball is gone
Leaving behind night.
Seed pods turning black
And crackling in the sun
On a long sand beach.
Wind waves in the grass
And a gentle reminder
To see when we look.
The river's current
Revealed by white, fluffy seeds
On a blue sky day.
Looking behind me
There above the stern, the moon
And two falling leaves.
Across the river
Apple blossoms in the night
Bright against the black.
It's becoming clear
The birds don't come to see me
They like to eat seeds.
My view this morning_
Fog in the valley, red leaves
Very still, waiting.
In the fading light
On my September river
Grey sky, black water.
There are, once again
Layers of leaves on the ground
Covering summer.
Crows are heading home
But I'll linger a bit more
On this cold river.
The water feels thick
And the air is crisp and cold
I paddle upstream.
It's been a cold spring
And everyone seems ready
To put on their shorts.
A boy and his cat
Purring together in bed
And singing their songs.
In just a moment
The sun will come out again
From behind those leaves.
Very close to sleep
Then, the sound of a raindrop
Outside, in the tree.
Silence is broken
As snowflakes lightly touch down
On top of my pack.
Long green blades of grass
Growing into the outhouse
Right under the door.
There, across the room
Asleep in the fading light
His ears are twitching.
A cup of green tea
After a while, another__
Saturday morning.
Who's that whispering
About the cold, dark night?
Oh, it's you, moon.
The whale's voice
Caught by the empty canoe
Sings inside my head.
Asleep together
And the frogs of winter
Sing about the spring.
Rain on smooth water
And a single white otter
Doesn't seem to care.
The crows are bathing
Together at water's edge
Soaking in the sun.
Sitting, then reading
And then, sitting and reading
Now, a cup of tea.
Here on the river
At the pace of the paddle
I"m finding myself.
A muskrat swimming
And now an ant on my leg__
Not a lonely walk.
Gliding to the ground
Puffs of white cottonwood seeds__
Wait, now they're rising!
It's quiet tonight
And I am just close enough
To hear him breathing.
Around the streetlight
Bright snowflakes wildy dancing__
Winter fireflies.
Every single turn
Contains every single turn___
It's cumulative.
The leaves are all down
And fog is in the valley
Creeping up on me.
Then, a steep vineyard
Rising up from the valley
Outside the window.
Everything we do
Finds its mysterious way
Into everything.
Seek the middle way
But don't expect to find it__
Do you understand?
Any moment now
I'll know if this is a dream
When the falling stops.
I'm really trying
Like so many nights before
To give up the day.
With a dancing whale
Greeting another grey dawn
The sea follows us.
Outside the window
With almost no sound at all
Tomorrow's fun falls.
Among the tall trees
In the middle of winter
We ski in silence.
The lightest snowflakes
Visible against the trees
Fall very slowly.
I remember now!
Clouds roll in from the southwest
And the grass turns green.
The moss glows deep green
And the rain pounds on the roof
I sit with the cat.
Rows of puffy clouds
Slowly sliding to the east
In search of mountains.
The moon tries to hide
Among the cold, dark branches
On a winter night.
A murder of crows
Forms a line across the lake
And just keeps coming.
Four swans in silence
Stunning against cold blue sky
Gone in a moment.