HAIKU DIALOGUE – Paradigm Shift – the travels of rain

Paradigm Shift with Guest Editor Craig Kittner

“Learn about pines from the pine,” Bashō advised.

Why do you think he said that?

Animism is a birthright of haiku.

However, western culture, despite all its scientific knowledge, tends to put human experience on some rarefied plane, separate and above all the other beings and forces of the universe. An ego-laden, anthropocentric attitude that would write off learning from the pine as anthropomorphism and personification.

How does this impact your writing?

Can you shift your perspective away from the human and dress yourself in the consciousness of another form?

next week’s theme: the discourse of birds

The blue jay mimics the call of the hawk, and the hawk responds. The bird feeder is a veritable Tower of Babel. Negotiations flying back and forth. What’s it mean, all this raucous calling?

The deadline is midnight Eastern Daylight Time, Saturday June 12, 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Please use the Haiku Dialogue submission form below to enter one or two original unpublished haiku inspired by the week’s theme, and then press Submit to send your entry.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 Craig’s commentary for the travels of rain:

rising
the river
of mist

Bryan Rickert
Belleville, Illinois USA

The simplicity here captures the thingness of mist, while leaving room for interpretation as to the relationship between mist and river and who all is rising.

raindrops
sired by stardust,
searching for home

Pris Campbell
USA

All raindrops have dust at their core, and their fall is the start of a journey, which will eventually return them to the sky. But where is home for the rain? Can it be said to have just one? Or is the journey itself its true home? All of this can also be said of the stuff that forms us. But the poet is wise enough not to say it.

rambling heat
the ocean disappears
into dark clouds

Willie Bongcaron
Manila, Philippines

This haiku evokes the awesome power of the hurricane to me. Simultaneously, I visualize how the sea and the horizon blend into one as a storm sweeps in.

hemlock grove
a migrating warbler
swallows me whole

Joshua Gage
Cleveland, OH, USA

A few writers opted to personify the rain into a first-person expression for this prompt. Given our context, the vision of a bird snatching a raindrop is clear. Yet this piece also works as an expression of losing one’s ego to nature.

crossing borders
how fluent the cadence
of rain

Lamart Cooper
Virginia, USA

All over the world the rain falls with the same voice, declaring the futility of our divisions.

after the rain
the forest
still raining

Alan Peat
Biddulph, United Kingdom

When does rain cease being rain to become something else? How our language carves up and compartmentalizes experience.

drenched to the core
I stop near his heart…
before sliding

Arvinder Kaur
Chandigarh, India

With an appealing musicality, this haiku conjures a presence that’s both enigmatic and intimate.

purple reflux
crying in the rain
the lost wave

Mircea Moldovan
Romania

Here is a mystery filled with mythic yearning. My mind keeps wanting to play with it.

& here are the rest of the selections:

distant thunder:
in monsoon season,
outrunning rain

Jeff Leong
Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

 

rain drops
from something
to nothing

Teji Sethi
India

 

monsoon river . . .
the silent taps of raindrops
in the flow

Milan Rajkumar
Imphal, India

 

last night’s rain
rising
with the sun

Pam Joy
Dyea, Alaska

 

what could have been the sound of rain

Tiffany Shaw-Diaz
USA

 

summer rain –
blooming all at once
the rainbows

Mirela Brăilean
Romania

 

a long drop
I race my sisters
down the windowpane

Tracy Davidson
Warwickshire, UK

 

circling the pond
each raindrop
a different size

Christopher Jupp
United Kingdom

 

raindrops
the pond astir
with rings

Richa Sharma
India

 

constant eavesdrops
a deep hole in the
stair stone

Xiaoou Chen
Kunming, China

 

rhododendron bells
morning monarchs drink
in the dew

Bill Fay
Fox Island, WA, USA

 

soft summer shower
a crimson fuschia grows
into a chandelier

John Hawkhead
UK

 

ascending
from a kettle spout
a raindrop

Ravi Kiran
Hyderabad, India

 

world traveler
known to have extreme mood swings
tantrums in mid-air

Connie Ramsey
United States

 

leafy mesh
its brief hold
on morning mist

Pat Davis
Pembroke, NH USA

 

all the rain
returning to the air
the rapture

Pippa Phillips
United States

 

rain fall. . .
the mountain’s chiseled face
slowly softens

Liz Ann Winkler
White Rock, Canada

 

eons of moon tears
now form your rainbow mist …
born without salt

Alfred Booth
Colombes, France

 

rain water
in a pothole
broken journey

Meera Rehm
UK

 

drop of rain
in the big city
the comfort of a puddle

Laurie Greer
Washington, DC

 

raindrops
taking away
the smell of the linden tree

Mirjana Blašković
Metzingen, Germany

 

the rain
now almost an idea …
parched earth

Vijay Prasad
Patna(India)

 

memories
carried by rivers …
the rain falls again

Subir Ningthouja
Imphal, India

 

raining
downstream from bogland
a dun current

Mike Gallagher
Ireland

 

travel
to the unknown world
pattering rain

Agus Maulana Sunjaya
Tangerang, Banten, Indonesia

 

summer rain
our way to the ocean
still so long

Eva Limbach
Deutschland

 

a longing
from the wasteland
streams in the dessert

Lisbeth Ho
Salatiga, Indonesia

 

desert alchemist—
cloudburst turns
dry wash to river

Cynthia Anderson
Yucca Valley, California

 

the world reflected
in one drop
spring rain

Seretta Martin
United States

 

summer rain..
blue song under the oaks

Giuliana Ravaglia
Bologna Italia

 

monsoon drizzle..
under the mango tree
a newly born calf

Mohammad Azim Khan
Peshawar, Pakistan

 

soil is just
a slower sky
spring rain

Ann K. Schwader
Westminster, CO

 

falling
into darkness
the rain drowns

Barrie Levine
Wenham, MA USA

Craig Kittner has lived a lot of places. Fourteen at last count. He was reared, for a while, in Illinois. Then North Carolina. Providence saw the start of some interesting things that DC helped solidify. Now he lives kind of near the sea and is compelled to ramble and write.

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.