HAIKU DIALOGUE – Family Portraits – Portrait Five & Introduction to A Good Wander: The Art of Pilgrimage

Family Portraits with Guest Editor John S Green & Introduction to A Good Wander: The Art of Pilgrimage

Thank you Guest Editor John S Green for the wonderful family portraits & the haiku they inspired, & welcome to our new Guest Editor P. H. Fischer, with whom we will embark on a new adventure… kj

Introduction to A Good Wander: The Art of Pilgrimage with Guest Editor P. H. Fischer

“Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.” – Basho (translated by Sam Hamill, The Essential Bashō, Shambhala, 1999)

Ready to lose yourself in the wonder of wandering? If so, grab your rucksack, water bottle (filled with a bit of sake perhaps), a pair of good trail shoes, a sturdy walking stick, and, of course, your favourite notebook and pen.

Over these next two months, I’ll share brief reflections and photo prompts from my Camino pilgrimage. This 900 km trek, from France across the Iberian Peninsula to Santiago de Compostela and beyond to the Atlantic Ocean, reignited a passion in me for haiku. I committed to composing at least one poem per day as a practice of being present to the moments unfolding along the way.

I’m not the first to scribble haiku while sojourning through villages, cities, mountains, plains, and sacred sites. Beginning with Basho (his Narrow Road to a Far Province remains the classic haiku travelogue), many poets including Santoka, Ryokan, and Kerouac, have taken to the open road to wander lonely as clouds, sing songs of nature (and themselves), and return to inspire others to join in on the chorus.

I invite you, likewise, to heed the poet’s instinct to get outside to go within; to ramble with intent, to write, and to return from your journey renewed, perhaps even transformed. You don’t need to go to Santiago, Jerusalem, Stonehenge, Graceland, Burning Man, or Matsuyama to accomplish this. Even a walk to the corner store can be a pilgrimage if experienced with our haiku senses attuned. Through the wonders of technology, we can journey from the comforts of our home if a physical jaunt is not possible. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that perhaps the most fascinating journey – navigating our interior landscape – can happen while sitting quietly on our meditation cushion.

It may be true, as J.R.R. Tolkien attested that “not all who wander are lost,” but let’s have fun trying. Isn’t that the goal of both pilgrimage and art – to lose oneself utterly in the present moment? To experience the ineffable/transcendent/divine (pick your term), and at least try to transmute our experience through a creative medium like haiku?

Alright, enough talk! Let’s get out wandering and writing. I look forward to reading your poems about real, imagined, imminent, interrupted, or eventual journeys. May the wind be always at your back!

next week’s theme: The Call to Adventure

Seventeen years before beginning my month-long sojourn, I listened to a friend tell tales of his own pilgrimage just completed. It was the first I heard of the Camino, a centuries-old pilgrimage to the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela which, according to legend, houses the revered remains of the Apostle St. James. Historically religious, the Camino is now traversed by millions of people from around the world for as many reasons as there are stars in the Milky Way.

Inspired by my friend’s pictures, not unlike the one posted here, I felt a call to wander the same ancient ley line snaking over the Spanish landscape to Santiago and beyond to Muxia and Finisterre (the “end of the earth”) at the Atlantic Ocean – historic Celtic sites that predate the cathedral.

For years, family and work commitments conspired against my dream until Linda, my soulmate, returned from a conference in snowy Saskatoon where she volunteered to bump herself from an overbooked flight home, resulting in a $1,000 airline travel credit. Meeting her at our airport arrivals, she gave me the voucher and smiled. “Quit talking about your Camino, go already!” Bless her.

I booked a flight and became overwhelmed with preparations: What backpack to buy? How many pairs of underwear? Do I need a sleeping bag? Poncho or rain jacket? How’s my French? Terrible. My Spanish? Even worse! Is my passport current? No. Shorts or convertible pants? Cash or credit? A guidebook or app? Don’t forget earplugs!

Oh, and I hadn’t told my boss I’m going. Details, details…

Prompted by my pilgrim story or this week’s photo taken in the province of Palencia, Spain, please write a haiku/senryu about your own calls to adventure, the preparation it entailed/entails, the training leading up to departure, or, perhaps the dream of travel that was shelved or kept alive but yet fulfilled. I look forward to reading your poems.

The deadline is midnight Pacific Daylight Time, Saturday October 08, 2022.

below is John’s commentary for Portrait Five:

This winds up my first appearance as a guest editor on Haiku Dialogue. I hope to return. Although it has been a whirlwind, the keepsakes are real. Thanks to Kathy (kjmunro) and Lori for guiding me through this magical haiku ride.

And special kudos to all of you – the hundreds of poets who sent me haiku in reaction to my family portrait photos. If I never selected you, I apologize. But I will next time, if you make the effort to read the haiku I did pick, then learn and grow from this creative garden.

Here we go:

winter
in minerva’s glaucous gaze
a poem yet unborn

simonj
UK

This was a lovely poem. Minerva, the Roman goddess of wisdom, is having writers block . . . ha! Or something, to allow her to pause for just a moment while she, and her friend, collect their poetic thoughts . . . a perfect subtle connection to the image.

locked up
in genetic coding
family secrets

Eavonka Ettinger
Long Beach, CA

 

family album
every leaf
the lake collects

John Pappas
United States

Eavonka and John have captured a deeper feeling I garnered from this photo. Family traits are, indeed, locked up in the genetics of individual family members. Good genes are a lucky thing, or not, no doubt.

war coverage—
the photographer uses
a black and white filter

Eva Limbach
Germany

 

war zone
talking to the sky
all the hidden voices

Vibeke Laier
Randers, Denmark

 

relics
of the holocaust
ash moon

Teji Sethi
India

Eva, Vibeke, and Teji evoked important conflict resolution. They all superimposed the photo onto current and historical warfare. Well done, although a sullen pause.

grandma’s stories
we never have enough
of the witches

Meera Rehm
UK

Ha! This is so true. Children are naturally drawn to imagination and the impossible idea of evil – which (no pun intended) is not a natural impulse at birth, as far as I know.

an owl feather spirals
onto the hunger stone–
harvest moon

Helga Stania
Switzerland

This haiku foretells what might happen if climate change gets out of control.

A ‘hunger stone’ is a stone, naturally exposed or deliberately implanted in a river during a drought, which is dated and often inscribed to mark the water level as a notice to future generations that they may face famine if the water reaches that low level again.

This week garnered several words I had not seen before. I looked them all up. I happily included many that added depth to the poetry. Please, look them up yourself, as you read through this wonderful list of haiku – all winners.

and here are the rest of the selections:

all soul’s day
something you couldn’t
quite put your finger on

Michael Henry Lee
Saint Augustine, FL

 

his gaze
the butterflies blush
in the belly

Nitu Yumnam
India

 

East Berlin …
crushed by my desire
for freedom

Roger Noons
UK

 

movie night
with the new wife:
hitchcock

Curt Linderman
Seattle, Washington

 

heaven or hell
finding my way through
the high heeled forest

Stephen A. Peters
Bellingham, WA

 

found inheritance—
gold star report cards and a
broken rubber-band

Roberta Beary
USA/ Ireland

 

gray scale—
the way we hide behind
our truths

Ingrid Baluchi
North Macedonia

 

florentine smile
holding in thrall
nystagmus

Bidyut Prabha
Bhubaneswar, India

 

lonely night
my parrot pretending
to sleep

Bakhtiyar Amini
Germany

 

her secretive smile
only the owl knows
whooo…….

Gary Evans
Stanwood, Washington

 

where we are now
in the dementia ward
a tragic wisdom

Elizabeth Moura
East Taunton, MA

 

dusk walk
a gum tree creaks
against another

Maurice Nevile
Canberra, Australia

 

whistling winds
family altar‘s candlelight
beckons me

Keiko Izawa
Japan

 

hollow of the night
the owl and I
staying awake

Tuyet Van Do
Australia

 

silent flight
his hand on my shoulder
now missing

Vibha Malhotra
Delhi, India

 

serenade drifts
on the night breeze
too-wit too-woo

(Too-wit too-woo are the calls of the female and male tawny owls.)

Ravi Kiran
India

 

midnight melody
in between his snoring
an owl hoots

Chittaluri Satyanarayana
Hyderabad, LB Nagar, India

 

her portrait
looking back at me—
a beauty of ukiyo-e

Teiichi Suzuki
Japan

 

sharp eyes
another spell
in the principal’s office

Tracy Davidson
Warwickshire, UK

 

eccentric aunt
the owls and skeletons
in her closet

Bryan Rickert
Belleville, Illinois USA

 

maple leaf
I leave without
asking

Richa Sharma
India

 

lonely seventies—
she shares her wisdom
with an owl

Mona Bedi
Delhi, India

 

“The Maltese Falcon”…
she role plays
her everyday life

Lynne Jambor
Vancouver BC Canada

 

formal portrait
two souls open
to the world

Susan Farner
USA

 

with one glance silence

Rehn Kovacic
Mesa, AZ

 

rainy day
my favourite song from
a black and white movie

Minal Sarosh
Ahmedabad, India

 

birdsong
her last thoughts
in a note

Tony Williams
Scotland, UK

 

muck-up day
the principal warns us
she sees all

(Muck-up day is the last day of the final year of school in Australia, marked by practical jokes and student pranks.)

Louise Hopewell
Australia

 

tango dance
unravelling the secrets
of the night

Padmini Krishnan
United Arab Emirates

 

kiraman katibin…
an angel tattooed
on each shoulder

Laurie Greer
Washington, DC

 

counseling session
i lie
about my crystal ball

Sarah E. Metzler
USA

 

starring at me
you and this owl
full moon

Maya Daneva
The Netherlands

 

nictitating
to pierce
all veils

Mike Fainziber
Rehovot, Israel

 

dusty album
little fingers
rewind the tune

Maurice Nevile
Australia

 

ancestress
on the family wall
Dad’s yard sale find

Maxianne Berger
Outremont, Quebec

 

the hues
of this pregnant silence
chiaroscuro

Arvinder Kaur
Chandigarh, India

 

no man’s land
only smog and mist
here and there

Christopher Calvin
Kota Mojokerto, Indonesia

 

deleted messages
she knows I know she knows

Vandana Parashar
India

 

how easily
her eyes
belie the smile

Padma Rajeswari
Mumbai, India

 

tombstone—
the hoot of the owl
fills the void

Dan Iulian
România

 

all night before
the cry of an owl…
then mother-in-law’s visit

Mirela Brăilean
Romania

 

in the eyes
fear flickers
in the air

Refika Dedić
Bosnia and Herzegovina

 

an odyssey
behind a pair of eyes
the cold night

Richard Straw
Cary, North Carolina

 

solitudine…
fra cocci di vetro
la luna piena

solitude…
between shards of glass
full moon

Giuliana Ravaglia
Bologna (Italy)

 

photo op
the macaw on my arm
tilts to my face

A.J. Anwar
Jakarta, Indonesia

 

in the guest-room
photos of the family’s
black sheep

Ella Aboutboul
West Sussex, UK

 

wing-swept night
nothing seen of witch
except amulet

Margie Gustafson
Lombard, IL USA

 

future in-laws
the trompe l’oeil
of their stares

Valentina Ranaldi-Adams
Fairlawn, Ohio USA

 

witching hour…
her soul settles
on my shoulder

Adele Evershed
Wilton, Connecticut

 

imaginary friends
the secret space
between feathers

Barrie Levine
Massachusetts, USA

 

after he left a white owl’s feather

Kath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, CA USA

 

birds of prey
a falconer’s unusual
choice

Deborah P Kolodji
Temple City, CA

 

a thousand words
in one
haiku

Didimay D. Dimacali
USA

Guest Editor John S Green, author of Whimsy Park: Children’s Poems for the Whole Family, is widely published in all styles of poetry – especially haiku. John lived in Europe before moving to the United States at age thirteen. His daughter cooks with spice, and his wife still laughs at his jokes.

Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. A novice haiku poet, she lives in New York City.

Managing Editor Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She is Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada, and her debut poetry collection is contractions (Red Moon Press, 2019). Find her at: kjmunro1560.wordpress.com.

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