HAIKU DIALOGUE – Sanctuary of the Senses – Touch and/or Taste – commentary

Sanctuary of the Senses with Guest Editor Carole MacRury

As haiku poets, we are familiar with being out in nature, living in the present moment awake to all sensory input, sight, sound, scent, touch, and taste. Sensory experiences can regulate the nervous system and support physical and mental health. Sensory practices and rituals can strengthen mind-body connections and regulate hormones to ease anxiety. I, myself, found ways to utilize the senses to remove debilitating anxiety attacks in my youth. Today, children identified as having sensory sensitivities receive treatment early on to help them process what can be overwhelming or underwhelming sensory responses. My own grandchild successfully underwent sensory processing treatment as a toddler.

A sanctuary is a place of refuge that offers safety and respite from the stresses of our lives, be it within our own homes, a bird sanctuary, a holy place, or at the kitchen table of a dear friend. A sanctuary is personal to each of us. We bring to these sanctuaries our senses whether it is our favorite color, a hot bath, a massage, favorite music, a cup of warm tea, or a hug from a loved one. Our ways and means are endless and unique. Our two prompts will invite you to discover the ways you create your own sanctuary of the senses to cope with the daily stresses of life and to enhance your own well-being.

Below is Carole’s commentary for Touch and/or Taste:

My gratitude to those who responded to our first “Sanctuary of the Senses” prompt. The long list was extensive, and I hope you enjoyed reading how others handled the prompt.

It wasn’t easy choosing this short list as many on the long list were beautifully written and invited commentary as well.  I will say this was not just a prompt on taste or touch, but a prompt focused on how these senses offer a place of sanctuary.  Each of the following poems offered me a feeling of sanctuary through the poets’ words.

These poems also reflect certain attributes in haiku that I am particularly drawn to. There are many Japanese aesthetics that I enjoy, but at the top of the list is the sense of ma, the unspoken, the silence, the breathing space that allows the reader to experience the poem on more than one level.  There is also a feeling of authenticity that breaks through many of these poems giving me a sense of universality and connection to human experience.  This is why haiku bridges cultures so successfully.

Each of these poems evoked an emotional response first, followed by an appreciation of language, tone, form and imagery.  While some may appear deceptively simple or brief, they offer so much more between the lines.  Thank you poets for the opportunity to share my thoughts on your poems.

deep
in the clouds
moving without moving

Victor Ortiz
Bellingham, Washington

I’m drawn to the sense of mystery in this haiku. Who hasn’t enjoyed relaxing and watching clouds drift past high above us? The idiom “head in the clouds” might come to mind, but this is not what I’m feeling with this poem. I sense a more meditative state, a moment of ‘deep’ stillness that goes beyond daydreaming. One has become one with the clouds, swept along with them on unseen currents of air even while one’s feet are grounded on earth. The fragment ‘moving without moving’ is beautifully suggestive of a moment of peace and escape from the stresses of life.  A poem with ma that invites personal interpretation.

ripe figs—
my mouth learns
another prayer

Thomas L. Vaultonburg
Rockford, Illinois USA

One of the most sensory haiku I’ve read in quite some time. And all that without mentioning the word “taste” once! The phrase ‘my mouth learns / another prayer’ is pure poetry yet grounded within the strong image of ‘ripe figs’. The enjoyment of ripe figs seems nourishment on almost a spiritual level. It reflects a moment of profound appreciation and grateful thanks for a moment of pure bliss. Can we find sanctuary in food? Yes, we most certainly can. This poem is rich with taste and a sense of sanctuary that invites the reader to close their eyes in their own prayer.

butterfly hug
the power to make
myself okay

Eavonka Ettinger
Long Beach, CA

A beautiful poem showing one way to discover a moment of sanctuary within oneself. This haiku is one of the most empowering and original takes on the theme, in my opinion. We don’t all have cats or people to hug. The image of a butterfly is light, fluttery, perhaps fragile when it comes to a hug, but it is a science-based established tool of self-soothing that grounds oneself in the moment. Combined with breathing, this self-hug seems to me a lovely way to create a sense of sanctuary.

womb to vernix—
the weight
of my daughter’s breath

Sandip Chauhan
USA

A stunning poem that shows us the moment of birth when the skin of a newborn meets the skin of its mother, in all its wetness and protective coating of vernix. Added to this sense of touch is ‘the weight / of my daughter’s breath’. This moment is sacred and filled with the sense of sanctuary, both for the safe delivery of the baby and the relief of the mother welcoming her baby into the world. There’s music in this haiku as well with the alliterative ‘womb / weight’ and the assonance of ‘weight / breath’.  A beautifully constructed haiku.

warm maple syrup
a bird begins
her song

Laurie Morrissey
Hopkinton, NH

This was probably my favorite “taste” haiku because ‘warm maple syrup’ conjures up special pancake breakfasts on a Sunday morning in our house.  Also, birdsong is often what wakes us early in the morning, suggesting the poet is enjoying a moment of peace before the day begins in earnest. The warm taste of maple syrup, the opening song of a bird, what a great way to start the day. The defining moment of appreciation from me was the poet’s choice of ‘a bird’ and ‘her song’, which offered a link between poet and bird. For those of us who enjoy subtle metaphor, I could easily relate to that bird as it doesn’t just sing a song but starts the day with ‘her song’. May we all do the same.

plush bathrobe
the cat jumps up
into my lap

Nancy Brady
Huron, Ohio

This cat haiku stood out from the rest because of the use of an adjective. Imagine that when we are often cautioned against the use of adjectives. Not just any bathrobe, but a ‘plush bathrobe’. I felt strongly that the sense of sanctuary was reciprocal between the cat and the poet making this one special to me. A moment of peace shared by both cat and poet. I could imagine the cat kneading the plushness of the robe, the poet stroking and bringing forth purrs of pleasure from the cat. I appreciate poems that allow me to read between the lines.

half moon—
my arms circle
the pillow

Nitu Yumnam
UAE

Another understated poem that suggests without telling us what to feel. I appreciate the relationship between the fragment and the phrase. Each stands alone yet allows the reader to enter the space between the image and the action. I think many of us find a sense of comfort in hugging a pillow as we settle into our beds for the night, but the image of a ‘half moon’ suggests to me that one half of a couple is missing and that in this haiku the act of embracing one’s pillow offers a sense of comfort and fullness in the absence of the other.

starry sky
on my shoulders
my footsteps lighter

Stephen A. Peters
Bellingham, WA

I found this haiku interesting because of the opening ‘starry sky’, which for some reason brought the emotional weight of Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” to my mind. I’ve often looked up at the stars and at times felt lost in the vastness of space, but other times felt closed in as if the stars were a canopy over earth. It all depends on my mood. The last line suggests to me that the poet felt some sort of release with ‘my footsteps lighter’. As if the metaphorical weight of the night sky and the universe made one feel small and weightless in the grand scheme of things. A night stroll under the stars seems a lovely way to seek a moment of sanctuary.

massaging my kale—
a new way
to relax

Tony Williams
Scotland, UK

I had to choose this one because the best haiku are often about the simplest things. Issa wrote about using a radish to point out directions. This poet writes about ‘massaging my kale’, which is so twenty-first century. Like Issa, this haiku shows that the most mundane tasks can be both profound and humorous. Let other people get massaged, this poet becomes the massager. As one who also massages kale to make it edible and tender in salads, I can easily sense the relaxation in such a task. A delightfully fresh take on the prompt.

low tide – pocketing the keeper stone

sara winteridge
New Forest, England

As one who frequently roams the beaches at low tide alone with the gulls, I could easily relate to the sense of sanctuary in this poet’s stroll on the sand. The beach is a lovely place to escape to in times of stress and to discover a ‘keeper stone’ is a bonus! I can almost sense the way the poet’s hand curves around the stone as it’s placed in her pocket, much as we fondle what are called “worry stones”,  the smoothness and shape helping to sooth our concerns. A very pleasant sense of sanctuary within this lovely monoku.

winter blues
I fetch pork cracklings
from the fridge

Nikola Đuretić
Zagreb, Croatia

The strength of this haiku lies within the juxtaposition of ‘winter blues’ and ‘the fridge’. The simple act of opening the fridge door and staring into it looking for something to sooth oneself, to feed one’s soul is such a very human act and one we can all relate to. While our choices of foods may differ, this poet favors something salty and crunchy to banish those winter blues. No matter what we reach for in the fridge, the act itself has a deep sense of universality that connects us all. I appreciated the alliteration of ‘fetch / from / fridge’. This offers a natural and pleasing musicality when read or spoken aloud.

mother’s sari hem—
my fingers relearn
their way home

Nalini Shetty
Mumbai, India

There is a beautiful juxtaposition between the fragment and the phrase. I envision a colorful garment once worn by one’s mother, and in need of hemming. Even though “sewing” is never mentioned, ‘my fingers relearn / their way home’ suggests that the act of repairing a loved one’s garment brings back memories and a sense of belonging. “Home” is such a powerful word and many of us must leave our homes for a variety of reasons, jobs, marriage, even moving to another country. I can’t know the details, but I can sense how touching the fabric of a loved one’s garment brings back the fabric of one’s upbringing.

Join us next week for our next prompt…

Bios:

Guest Editor Carole MacRury resides in Point Roberts, Washington, a unique peninsula and border town that inspires her work. Her poems have won awards and been published worldwide, and her photographs have been featured on the covers of numerous poetry journals and anthologies. Her practice of contemplative photography along with an appreciation of haiku aesthetics helps deepen her awareness of the world around her. Both image and written word open her to the interconnectedness of all things, to surprise, mystery and a sense of wonder. She is the author of In the Company of Crows: Haiku and Tanka Between the Tides (Black Cat Press, 2008, 2nd Printing, 2018) and The Tang of Nasturtiums, an award-winning e-chapbook (Snapshot Press 2012).

Assistant Editor Lafcadio, a former teacher, now works from home writing, editing and proofreading study guides for nursing textbooks. She lives in Tennessee. She has written poetry for a long time but a couple of years ago fell in love with Japanese micropoetry and hasn’t looked back. Lafcadio has been published in a number of journals and anthologies. She writes under the nom de plume of Lafcadio because nom de plume is so fun to say. You can read her poems on Twitter (X) @lafcadiopoetry or BlueSky @lafcadiobsky.

Assistant Editor Vandana Parashar is an associate editor of haikuKATHA and one of the editors of Poetry Pea and #FemkuMag. Her debut e-chapbook, I Am, was published by Title IX Press (now Moth Orchid Press) in 2019 and her second chapbook Alone, I Am Not, was published by Velvet Dusk Publishing in April 2022.

Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. She lives in New York City and enjoys reading and writing haiku.

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

Portrait by Laurel Parry

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Haiku Dialogue offers a triweekly prompt for practicing your haiku. Posts appear each Wednesday with a prompt or a selection of poems from a previous week.  Read past Haiku Dialogue posts here.