Turning from a non-glasses wearing person into a glasses wearing person may be the most dramatic adjustment I’ve had to make to middle age so far. I can’t find them when I need them. I leave them behind. I break them. I can’t believe I need them! But I do. Which is why this was especially alarming:
Where are my glasses?
Oh, just open the oven
and then you will see.
Yesterday I talked a little bit about the form and traditions around the haiku, but today I just want to say something about why I love the form.
Haiku, by definition, are small — not just in structure but in scope. They are meant to capture a moment. And in order to do that, you’ve got to slow down (or even stop) and pay attention. You’ve got to notice what is happening, which sounds hang in the air, the quality of the light in the leaves, the vigor of the dog’s lope.
And that stopping? That noticing? That can turn your day around. Honestly. It really can. It really does.
Today was daunting
but didn’t turn out half-bad
upon reflection
I like to take a little time each April to actually talk about the form of haiku.
So, here goes…
Does a haiku have to be written with 5/7/5 syllables?
No. That length and rhythm approximates a traditional Japanese haiku, but many English haiku don’t stick to that form.
Do your haiku follow the 5/7/5 format?
Almost always, because I love having a container built with strict parameters into which I can pour words.
Does haiku have to be about nature?
Yes, traditionally haiku are brief snapshots of the natural world, of seasons, of flora, fauna, weasels, weather.
Are all of your haiku about the natural world?
No. I write one haiku every day in April and I focus more on the moment itself than the actual content or subject matter. So some of my haiku are probably closer to senryu. Forgive me.
Do all haiku have a volta?
Most should. A volta is a turn or pivot, most often between lines 2 and 3, that makes a haiku especially satisfying or surprising or delightful. So, yes to voltas!
Did you write a haiku today?
Of course I did!!
I know. I get it.
Not every day is easy
Don’t be so prickley!
The spring has been erratic and has come haltingly here, but it has delivered (thank goodness) rain.
When things get dry in Texas, all the plants curl up and the trees drop limbs and we sit inside in the air conditioning, parched and yearning. It’s not pretty.
But right now, the creeks are full and I’m appreciating it.
When the creek runs high
I feel like I belong here
There’s enough to drink
This weekend was like 3 seasons all at once — Friday was fall, Saturday was winter, and today, finally, was spring. What possesses that mercurial Mother Nature sometimes? The truth is — even though it felt crazy bundling up in foul weather gear in April — I like when the natural world keeps me on my toes.
It’s a reminder:
No complacency.
No boredom.
No habits or ruts.
It’s all new, surprising and awe-inspiring, this wild world…
To build a stick house,
to trust the simplicity
of wood, air and light
Artist Ellsworth Kelly’s final work of art is a permanent installation recently unveiled at the Blanton Museum in Austin. It is a piece about shape and color, aesthetic and spirit, modernity and history. I really love it…
On a cloudy day
light and color are subtle.
I don’t mind that.
We entertained this weekend — my mom and dad, cousins on my dad’s side, cousins on my husband’s side Thus the late posting here, because what I felt able to do was scribble my poems in my journal — and that’s all. But now I’ll take a moment to share. From Friday:
Oh, seriously?
Some folks will do anything
to get attention.
Our challenge this month was to read Elizabeth Bishop’s poem ONE ART and to each use a line from it in a poem of our own. I love this villanelle, and not just because once, as a kid, I lost three parkas in a single winter. It’s just typical Bishop in that it’s elegant and so you don’t realize until after you finish reading it that it hit you right in the gut.
I chose to use the line “some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent” and then, instead of focusing on the losing of things I somehow veered toward gratitude and that whole notion of not appreciating what we have until it’s gone.
I’d like another week to play around with this, revise it, read it aloud, but alas. Here goes…
Some Realms
After Bishop’s One Art
By Liz Garton Scanlon
There was a time
when everything was mine –
some realms I owned,
two rivers, a continent
the beasts and boats,
the sunlight and the stones.
But I never noticed,
I never named it all
or wrote it down
until it slipped away –
every bit of it – like water.
I was left with a dry cup
and a dark candle
and a heart like a cave –
empty, with plenty
of room.
Please go read the others now.
You’ll love them…
Sara
Tricia
Tanita
Laura
Kelly
Also, go see ALL the Poetry Friday poems at Amy Ludwig Vanderwater’s place!
It was one of those days where I sort of ran from one thing to another from start to finish, so it wasn’t until bedtime, when I took my dog out, that I had a haiku moment. Some days are like that. It’s never too late.
I can’t see a thing
walking in this thick blackness
It is beautiful
It’s my birthday. Anti-climatic, since last year was one of those end-in-a-zero years. (I’m realizing I don’t mind anti-climatic every now and again.) Anyway, not only was the birthday anti-climatic, but it’s on a Wednesday. And I found myself at a conference. In Dallas. I mean, a really really great conference full of really really great librarians but still. You know what I mean.
And yet, it all feels fine and right. Here I am, 51, in the middle of an ordinary week in April, one daughter out of the nest, another teetering on the edge, my husband making sure the dog gets walked and he gets new brakes in his truck. And I’m at a conference talking to librarians about my most recent books about trees. Yes, more than one book about trees. I could write a hundred books about trees. I know, that would be overkill. So instead, how about a haiku? You’ll humor me, since it’s my birthday. I know you will…
Cypress throwing roots
like straws or steadfast embrace
like ropes for rescue