HAIKU DIALOGUE – Finding peace and contemplation… in hidden corners – Photo Two
Finding Peace and Contemplation… in hidden corners with Guest Editor Marietta McGregor
A note for all those submitting to Haiku Dialogue – please note that the deadline for submissions has now been changed to reflect daylight savings time… thanks, kj
At times in our lives, fast-moving events of our day-to-day existence may become overwhelming. Between work and family responsibilities, daily needs and doomscrolling, days rush by in a breakneck blur and we sometimes end the week with a sense of ‘where did that go?’ We’re surrounded by the wonders of our shared universe. Maybe it’s time to become immersed in the enjoyment of one aspect of this spectacular world which amazes, delights and refreshes us. We can marvel at the night sky or clouds by day, cheer a ladybug as it climbs a twig and opens its wings, dangle our feet in a cool river, rest in a tree’s benevolent shade, stroke velvety green moss, smell ozone freshness at the coast, crunch through frosty grass, listen to morning birdsong, taste a last autumn apple. Small pauses in quotidian life may be devoted to living slower, using every sense, and sharing our pleasure through poetry. Simple gifts.
Each week for the next few weeks there will be a photographic prompt on the theme of ‘Finding peace and contemplation. . .’ with images capturing moments when we might seek inspiration if the going gets tough. I look forward to reading your personal response to the moments you’ve discovered.
next week’s theme: in hidden corners Photo Three – island alley
On Naxos in the Greek Cyclades it’s easy to get disoriented in one area of the main town, called Bourgos. A labyrinth of covered passageways with unanticipated dead ends, its layout was designed to confuse medieval sea pirates who landed and followed alleys which led them in circles instead of leading to the main settlement. My husband Campbell and I got lost trying to find the Venetian castle. It didn’t really matter as the narrow cobbled alleys served up surprises at every turn. You’re invited to submit your haiku (up to two) inspired by the photograph, or about hidden spots in a town or city where you’ve come across the unexpected, or just got lost.
The deadline is midnight Eastern Daylight Time, Saturday March 20, 2021.
Please use the Haiku Dialogue submission form below to enter one or two original unpublished haiku inspired by the week’s theme, and then press Submit to send your entry. (The Submit button will not be available until the Name, Email, and Place of Residence fields are filled in.) With your poem, please include any special formatting requirements & your name as you would like it to appear in the column. A few haiku will be selected for commentary each week. Please note that by submitting, you agree that your work may appear in the column – neither acknowledgment nor acceptance emails will be sent. All communication about the poems that are posted in the column will be added as blog comments.
below is Marietta’s commentary for Photo Two – entryway at dusk
My happy thanks to everyone who joined us again for Haiku Dialogue. Haiku poets will often tell you they have a favourite season which inspires their best writing. For many of you who contributed this week, autumn fits the bill. Colour, scent and sound all play a part in the varied offerings, with poems that relish the rustle and crunch of fallen leaves underfoot and the play of sunlight through red leaves. As haiku are truly international, the idea of kigo has broadened and new season words or signifiers have emerged from the poles to the tropics. This reflects in the variety of experiences you’ve captured in your poems, from day/night sounds to festivals, familiar cafés or neighborhoods, vivid clothing, and fond memories. I love to read the varying takes from around the world, and am struck anew by how wonderful the international haiku community is and how lucky we are to be able to connect in this way, thanks as always to Kathy, Lori and THF.
autumn leaves
I follow
the floating nightHelga Stania
Switzerland
I was drawn to this haiku on the one hand for its musicality and lightness, and also because it brought to mind the ‘floating world’, or ukiyo, of Edo Japan (1615-1868), captured so vividly in woodblock prints. There is something mysterious afoot here. The poet uses a bright autumn kigo, then shifts away towards the darkness. We don’t know where the ‘floating night’ will lead. Will it be to somewhere known or unknown? Or into a wonderful dream? Lines 2 and 3 have a dreamlike flow which leaves the poem open to any direction the reader cares to take.
poetry reading . . .
in the tatami room
a red maple leafMilan Rajkumar
Imphal, India
A contemplative, almost meditative haiku. The poet sets us in the scene – the calm monotones of a rice straw-scented tatami room. Poems, possibly haiku, are being read. Maybe someone rings a small bell after each reading. The atmosphere encourages concentration. Yet the poet’s mind wanders a little, and as their eyes drift around the room their focus narrows to a single leaf, a tiny bright spot in the expanse of pale matting. The focus shift from a wide view to one detail in the bigger picture is similar to the technique of ‘zooming in’ found in many haiku of Buson – for example, when he writes about one tulip in a field of flowers under a wide sky.
a light also on
in my neighbor’s window
pandemic winterKristen Lindquist
Camden, Maine, USA
To me this haiku may be read in several different ways, some comforting, some not quite so much. A sense of isolation is apparent, and yet a reassuring presence is implied by the use of the word ‘also’. From a brief glance out of the window the poet may feel they are not alone this winter’s night – a close neighbour is awake too. Even though no contact may be possible during the day, the light brings some comfort. Everyone is in the same boat. A darker reading could be that the neighbour may have a family member who is ill and being cared for at home, so a night-light is burning, late, and is seen by the wakeful poet. The poem brings to mind a haiku by Issa, about an isolation infirmary outside Nagasaki, lamplit in a blizzard.
below are the rest of the selections:
sunset
our shadows evolve
into giantsDeborah Karl-Brandt
Bonn, Germany
autumn leaves
the steps getting there
for the viewStephen A. Peters
Bellingham, Wa. USA
autumn dusk . . .
I cling to the warmth
of your fingersSurashree Joshi
Pune, India
father’s memories
in the red maple leaves
autumn lightLakshmi Iyer
India
monastery—
the silence holds
a prayer songTeji Sethi
India
autumn leaves—
the echo of your voice
stuck in the nightNicole Pottier
France
conservation hike
a kerosene lantern
runs out of fuelM. R. Defibaugh
Richmond, VA
after the storm—
leaves of the last fall
on my staircaseMuskaan Ahuja
Chandigarh, India
Ramadan lantern . . .
children around their mother
to put hennaHassane Zemmouri
Algiers / Algeria
silent retreat . . .
sign language
not allowedKathleen Vasek Trocmet
USA
a leaf drops—
i listen to his footsteps
fade into goodbyeGillena Cox
St James, Trinidad
the last leaf
has already fallen—
silent sunsetMaria Teresa Sisti
Italy
Gion—
I lose my way
in red lanternsTeiichi Suzuki
Japan
old town restaurant
fresh freckles
on her faceRobert Kingston
Chelmsford, UK
spring dream . . .
beckoning me at its gate
my unborn haikuKeiko Izawa
Yokohama, Japan
that particular crunch
slowing my pace
through fallen leavesDana Rapisardi
United States
burnt dusk—
I come
for shelterMargaret Mahony
Australia
night lights
silence accompanies
the maple leavesVincenzo Adamo
Sicily (Italy)
autumn twilight
enters the local ale-house
street violinistWiesław Karliński
Poland
my darkness recedes . . .
the welcoming light
you leave on for meTracy Davidson
Warwickshire, UK
empty garage
step by step
autumn’s scentmartin gottlieb cohen
Egg Harbor, NJ U.S.A
amber light—
a fine mist wets
stone wallsluce ambrata—
una nebbia fine bagna
i muri in pietraDaniela Misso
Italy
shooting stars
the child flies away
on a sky lanternJohn Hawkhead
United Kingdom
flickering flames—
the glow of red maples
in lamplightDorothy Burrows
United Kingdom
under covers
the flashlight’s glow
across my bookBryan Rickert
Belleville, Illinois USA
full moon
the joy of
bin nightHelen Buckingham
United Kingdom
squeezing
from one world to another
oak hollowBen Oliver
Stroud, England
a tempting alley
the brick walls closing in
on duskSari Grandstaff
Saugerties, NY
sultry evening
the swish
of red silkMarion Clarke
Warrenpoint, Northern Ireland
only the sky hears the night birds
Roberta Beach Jacobson
Indianola, IA, USA
diwali night
no one misses
the moonVandana Parashar
India
afternoon
a red maple fills
the library with lightBret Wooldridge
Nevada
from dusk till dawn red dwarf
Pere Risteski
North Macedonia
two maple leaves
lost and found 片 pinned
on the telephone polesimonj
UK
lone lamp
bringing into light
her hidden scarsPadmini Krishnan
Singapore
pond at night
I hug a turtle
and put him backKath Abela Wilson
Pasadena, CA
self-taught
. . . getting nowhere
with vanishing pointsIngrid Baluchi
North Macedonia
bardo
shadows between the lights
and the lightLaurie Greer
Washington, DC
labyrinth
of stones and moss
I let the day unwindPat Davis
Pembroke, NH USA
light
from deep places
Santa Fe duskAnn K. Schwader
Westminster, CO
the lamp-post
Narnia
I’d know it anywhereGreer Woodward
Waimea, HI
born in October
stepping on a carpet
of red leavesElisa Allo
Zug, Switzerland
door ajar—
secrets we are ready
to shareTomislav Sjekloća
Cetinje, Montenegro
entryway at dusk—
the modest charm
of every leafGoran Gatalica
Croatia
the last sunshine
and the two of us . . .
what else?Rosa Maria Di Salvatore
Italy
seeking my autumn
years — the last hundred steps
in candlelightAlfred Booth
Colombes, France
stone lamps
among the colorful momijis—
meditation labyrinthJulia Guzmán
Argentina
Boston alley
the Spanish café door glows
in the crisp darkPris Campbell
United States
autumn glow
I lose myself
in the pauseSushama Kapur
India
on the steps
to the tea house we finish
our persimmonPaul Geiger
moon in the window—
a spider in the corner
with its shadowTomislav Maretić
Zagreb, Croatia
under the canopy
trying to catch
a slippery dreamMona Iordan
Romania
where to sleep
when the day fades
behind the lanternMaya Daneva
The Netherlands
deep in the dunes
embers
slowly smolderMargaret Walker
Lincoln, NE, USA
back entrance
to the restaurant
moon glowDeborah P Kolodji
United States
Guest editor Marietta McGregor is a fourth-generation Tasmanian who has made her home between Australia’s national capital Canberra and the scenic south coast of New South Wales for over four decades. A lover of the natural world since childhood, she went on to study botany and zoology, and has worked as palynologist, garden designer, science journalist, editor, university tutor, education manager, and grants developer for the national wildlife collection. A photography and travel enthusiast since retiring, she enjoys capturing fine detail of fleeting moments. She came late to haiku, which appealed for its close observation and poetic expression of ephemeral experience. Her haiku, haibun and haiga have been widely published, have won awards and appear in anthologies.
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.
The Haiku Foundation reminds you that participation in our offerings assumes respectful and appropriate behavior from all parties. Please see our Code of Conduct policy.
Please note that all poems & images appearing in Haiku Dialogue may not be used elsewhere without express permission – copyright is retained by the creators. Please see our Copyright Policies.
This Post Has 21 Comments
Comments are closed.
Thank you Marietta,, I love these prompts and selections.. the are full of secrets and resonances.
I know this place one can easily walk into a different world… unknowingly..
Gion—
I lose my way
in red lanterns
Teiichi Suzuki
Japan
And for Deborah a special sight…evocative and real.. yet like
a remembered dream
back entrance
to the restaurant
moon glow
Deborah P Kolodji
United States
Thank you Kath for your comment of my ku.
Have you ever been in Kyoto ?
Did you enjoy the night of Gion (祇園) ?
Thank you for including my ku this week.
Among the many thoughts inspired by the photo I was especially enchanted by John Hawkhead’s
shooting stars
the child flies away
on a sky lantern
These words leave you wondering if this is a poem of imagined joy or perhaps deep sadness at the loss of a child. Maybe a child moving into adulthood. “Sky lantern” – an intriguing vision itself. It is a poem that is even better read aloud.
Thank you Bryan for your comment.
Many thanks, Marietta, for your special themes and thoughts that are inspiring so many of us.
My thanks to Kj and Lori too.
It is a fine selection indeed, and I am so thankful to you for including one of mine.
Congratulations to everyone for their delightful haiku I read with much pleasure – this one in particular:
my darkness recedes . . .
the welcoming light
you leave on for me
Tracy Davidson
Warwickshire, UK
Hello Tracy! Thank you very much for your kind words. I’m enjoying all the wonderful poems from everyone! Cheers, Marietta
Hello Mona! I’ve done this before, I think — assuming the last name is who wrote the post, I mean! Brain fry! Sorry! And I do thank you for your support, and I’m happy you’re enjoying the prompts. Best wishes, Marietta
A lovely selection of poems. Congratulation to all the poets! Thank you to Marietta for including my poem and thank you also to Kj and Lori for the administration.
I found Marietta’s commentary particularly helpful this week and loved all the poems she discussed.
It’s almost impossible to pick out favourites as all were such a pleasure to read though one I particularly enjoyed was…
full moon
the joy of
bin night
Helen Buckingham
United Kingdom
A glorious, creative and unexpected response to the prompt.
I am already looking forward to reading next week’s selection!
Thanks so much, Dorothy!
Dear Dorothy, I’m very happy to hear you’re enjoying the prompts and commentaries. It’s great to read your responses, too. Best wishes, Marietta
Thank you, Marietta for the wonderful photo, and everyone for the marvelous poems; this was an exceptionally strong group. Just to mention a few that stopped me:
*
autumn leaves
I follow
the floating night
*
Helga Stania
Switzerland
*
I agree with previous comments–this one has everything.
*
sunset
our shadows evolve
into giants
*
Deborah Karl-Brandt
Bonn, Germany
*
love the strong visuals and the counter-clockwise science! Slightly startling and shaking up our usual sense of self and time.
*
burnt dusk—
I come
for shelter
*
Margaret Mahony
Australia
*
A moving reflection on the wildfires.
*
under covers
the flashlight’s glow
across my book
*
Bryan Rickert
Belleville, Illinois USA
*
of course–that’s exactly the shade of the light in the photo!
*
squeezing
from one world to another
oak hollow
*
Ben Oliver
Stroud, England
*
love the magical transition here
*
light
from deep places
Santa Fe dusk
Ann K. Schwader
Westminster, CO
*
wonderfully atmospheric
*
Hello Laurie! So glad you’re enjoying the photo prompts and finding they inspire and challenge you! I’ve had fun putting them together, and am loving your poems each week. Keep them coming! Best wishes, Marietta
Thank you Marietta for including my haiku this week and congratulations to all the poets here. These two haiku struck a chord with me. Seemed to capture what I felt when looking at this photo. Just beautiful:
entryway at dusk—
the modest charm
of every leaf
Goran Gatalica
Croatia
autumn twilight
enters the local ale-house
street violinist
Wiesław Karliński
Poland
A bumper crop of fine haiku this week, and so many divergences on a theme! A joy to read these.
Thank you Marietta for a wonderful selection and for including one of mine.
I enjoyed reading them all.
This one stood out just that little bit more for me.
a leaf drops—
i listen to his footsteps
fade into goodbye
Gillena Cox
St James, Trinidad
I love Keiko’s third line, suggesting the mental ‘pangs’ we go through to safely deliver a haiku with which we are finally happy. Who hasn’t been stopped in their tracks by such scenes as this entryway, urging the need to jot down a line or two to work at later?
spring dream . . .
beckoning me at its gate
my unborn haiku
Keiko Izawa
Yokohama, Japan
There’s a similar suggestion of wonder in Shushama’s poem:
autumn glow
I lose myself
in the pause
Sushama Kapur
India
Thank you, Marietta, for these evocative photos and for your thoughts on those selected. And thank you for including one of mine.
Thank you Ingrid for taking up my haiku for your comment. It’s always nice to know how the reader reads the space in the work!
Congrats to all the poets whose work were selected.
Also, thank you Marietta for your continued efforts.
Thank you Marietta for selecting my haiku to share with the rest of these great writers.
Thank you Marietta for including my haiku. Each poem a delight, congratulations to all poets.
Thanks so much for including my ku, Marietta. Some lovely poems here and I’m with you all the way on your selection of those to comment on: I love Helga’s evocation of a ‘floating night’; Milan has introduced me to the word ‘tatami’ which (having looked it up!) contrasts beautifully with the colour of the leaf. And Kristen’s, as you say, can be read in more than one way and is all the richer for it. Congratulations to all three and to everyone else whose work has been placed here.
Selected all haiku are touching… Really great work and beautiful selection.