HAIKU DIALOGUE – The Haiku Mind – Signs of Spring
The Haiku Mind
Recently, my five-year-old daughter was comforting her younger sister when she spontaneously composed this haiku as a source of solace:
leaving
all that’s left
the fog
I was shocked! I haven’t shared much haiku with her yet thinking it was a bit beyond her ability to comprehend. Well, she showed me! This beautiful haiku came from a heart that knows no poetic rules nor has had any training. It flowed out of a haiku mindset that I believe is inborn in all of us.
Unlike adults, young children do not carry around the concerns and worries of the world. They have yet to have years of self-consciousness weigh down their creative efforts. Their first impulse is followed without wondering whether it will be “good enough”. They simply create. It is a freedom many of us long for in our own writing. So, let’s regain some of that innocence. Let’s write from that first spark that alights within us. Let’s throw off what we believe what a haiku “is” or “isn’t”. Let’s let go of trying to “follow the rules” and allow ourselves the satisfying joy of creation.
Each week I will provide a simple prompt for your imagination and memories to springboard off of. I’d like for you to try to clear your mind, breathe deeply, and follow the first image or feeling that comes to mind. Take a minute to jot down your impressions and see where it goes. Try not to take too long or spend too much time on revision. Allow yourself to trust your own inborn haiku mind.
noticing
the sunset first
her innocence
Please send one to two unpublished and freshly created haiku by clicking here: Contact Form, and put Haiku Dialogue in the Subject box.
I will select from the entries, providing commentary for a few each week, with the rest being listed in the order they are received.
next week’s theme: Hobbies
Most of us have a passion for something, what is it for you? Is it something you do inside or outside? Is it a solo project or a group effort? Is it only done during a certain time of year? What does it involve? Is there a specific place that you go? Is there a smell or taste associated with it? What about a sound? How did you come to discover this interest?
Let yourself follow the first thought that comes to mind and engage that idea with all of your senses. Allow yourself to create and throw off what you think “should” or “should not be” in regards to your haiku. There is no right or wrong here. Bring yourself into the moment and stay there awhile. Let it linger.
The deadline is midnight Eastern Standard Time, Saturday March 28, 2020.
This week will be the last prompt in “The Haiku Mind” series so stay tuned for what’s next!
Below is my commentary for Signs of Spring:
I hope this week finds you safe and well. Even though isolation has only just begun for my family, it is already difficult to be cut off from family and friends. With two little children we are trying to navigate building a new routine that will keep us all in good spirits. Part of my joy this week was reading all of your submissions and I thank you for the many well wishes. There is abounding beauty in this week’s haiku that I am sure will bring you delight, comfort, and a sense of community. We at least have thoughts of spring (or the beauty of autumn for our Southern hemisphere friends) to keep our spirits thriving!
Among the many glorious images of spring many of you wrote about the coronavirus pandemic. I know my life has been deeply impacted by it as have many of yours. However, I see people all over the world finding ways to still connect with each other and the splendor that is all around us. I thought I would share a few that helped me this week.
cherry blossoms
even under
quarantineM. R. Defibaugh
I was saddened to hear that Japan had to cancel all of their cherry blossom festivals this year, yet excited that they are finding a way to carry on by filming the cherry blossoms to stream for viewing. Even under quarantine we can still witness their magic. There is a certain comfort that spring will continue to carry on while the rest of the world comes to a halt. That beauty will persist, warmth will return, and light will linger a bit longer.
social distancing ……now I hug trees
John Green
This week my children and I did exactly this. As we are unable to be out in public and they are no longer able to see their school friends, we went outside and hugged our trees. Have you ever done this before? It feels almost magical to hold them, to feel their strength, their years. It helped give us a sense of connection to the earth as it awakens and reminded us that this will pass. These trees have stood for over a hundred years and have lived through more storms than I will ever know. It gives me hope that my family can ride out this storm alongside them.
the tiny buds
I wouldn’t have noticed
shelter in placeDeborah P Kolodji
Being forced to slow down does have its benefits. Yesterday, as I sat on my porch, I watched a downy woodpecker for a little while. It occurred to me that I had never actually seen a woodpecker, only heard them. What an incredible sight to see! It is something that perhaps I would have missed had my daily routine not changed. I wonder what other delights await me as spring rolls on.
As always I encourage you to engage further with Haiku Dialogue through the comments section below. I hope to “see” you there! Happy reading!
signs of spring
mosquito control dissolves
in the fogMichael Henry Lee
rising out of the dead leaves grandma’s snowdrops
Randy Brooks
springtime
twirling
kitesOlivier Schopfer, Switzerland
spring dawn a fresh pimple
john hawkhead
after fifty …
I no longer count my springsdopo i cinquanta…
non conto più le mie primavereAngela Giordano, Italy
morning rapture
despite
the economic climeNancy Liddle
spring…
it’s different
againTsanka Shishkova
rerouting
the daily walk
first blossomsBryan Rickert
short sleeves –
wind has changed
among the violetsMaria Teresa Sisti
breath of spring . . .
swaying in my rucksack
granny’s herbariumIvan Gaćina, Zadar, Croatia
fiddleheads
a tender pigment
on my paintbrushMarilyn Ashbaugh, Sierra Vista, AZ
hundreds of frogs
sounding out spring
village swampChristina Chin
tickling
under my toes
grass budsTeiichi Suzuki, Japan
mother’s blue irises
still remembering her first
split leaf whistleRobert Kingston Chelmsford, U.K.
first crocus
all the things we decided
to believeAgus Maulana Sunjaya, Tangerang, Indonesia
picnic
sparrows find
the crumbsvincenzo adamo
tender leaves
open up…
stories of springLakshmi Iyer
spring
the winds
in mePere Risteski
together again
a house martins couple
in a hurryMarta Chocilowska
morning darkness
under the bedroom window
blackbird’s songSlobodan Pupovac, Zagreb, Croatia
sap moon
a grouse drumming
up springKristen Lindquist
at her tomb
cherry blossoms arrive
before meNisha Raviprasad
crocus spears
her final
hospice visitChristina Pecoraro
railroad track
digging dandelions
with my motherEdna Beers
secret thoughts
on her lips
first crocusAlegria Imperial
open windows
a bee wanders
into the roomMinal Sarosh
jasmine blossom
the first mini skirt
of springLouise Hopewell
mango pollen…
spring comes home
on her dupatta **dupatta is a long scarf worn by Indian women. It’s usually made of dainty chiffon or other delicate fabrics
arvinder kaur, Chandigarh, India
spring equinox
I quench my thirst
at a blue skyAnna Maria Domburg-Sancristoforo
rain
on the cancelled parade –
coronavirusValentina Ranaldi-Adams, Fairlawn, Ohio USA
empty planters
a pair of crocs
at the porch doorLaurie Greer
laundry
drying on the terrace …
snowmeltbucato
steso sul terrazzo …
disgeloDaniela Misso
early spring…
adding to my diary
new spectrum of colourJibril Dauda Muhammad, Nigeria
scavenger hunt
finding things
not on the listPat Davis, NH
kicking the walls
of her womb- her spring –
a wake up callRadhamani sarma
slow thaw
irresistibly drawn
to the IV dripIngrid Baluchi, Macedonia
light as air
watching the baseball game
courtesy of GoodyearPaul Geiger
spring afternoon–
a green balloon drifts over
the subway platformLorraine Schein Queens, NY
first mow
the hanging basket
with clashing colorsCarmen Sterba
balance
of snow on Azalea buds
spring equinoxPeggy Hale Bilbro, Alabama
strangers
turning into friends
spring wineAdrian Bouter
off to work…
the bees are early
this timeWillie Bongcaron, Philippines
tulip buds
above the snow
first of springAnn K. Schwader, Westminster, CO
easing my loneliness the lilac’s sweet perfume
Clifford Rames
a parliament of crows
in the elm tree
a lot to talk aboutAnn Rawson
outracing my torpor—
the measured strides
of my running shoesRashmi Vesa
kitchen window …
a lorikeet clings
to a camellia bloomMadhuri Pillai
social distancing
all but for the pairing
of rabbitsMichele L. Harvey
on the fence
cooing doves clinch
our dream housewendy c. bialek
dusk on the river
where the ice was
a fishermanSteve Tabb
drifting in
on a thermal. . .
another turkey buzzardDon Miller
spring rain . . .
snow dust and robin calls
at dawnJanice Munro
spring garden
old friends
show upJoanne van Helvoort
coronavirus…
the snowy egret
snatches a fishPris Campbell
sea of daffodils
the green tick in your window
tells us you’re OK(In the Scottish Highland village of Ballachulish volunteers have distributed flags to every household for display in their window or front door. A green tick means you’re healthy and able to go about your business, a red cross means you’re not so well and need help. The volunteers monitor the community and arrange assistance where it is needed)
Xenia Tran
In the deepness of the forest
the toc…toc…
of the woodpeckersJulia Guzman
spring breeze
a little more sway
in her stepRich Schilling, Webster Groves, MO
self-isolation
the lingering fragrance
of wildflowersHifsa Ashraf
pandemic spring
I add daffodils
to my InstacartSari Grandstaff, Saugerties, NY
coronavirus …
only spring runs
in the meadowscoronavirus … solo la primavera / corre nei prati
Lucia Cardillo
trying
to forgive him
bluebellscezar-florin ciobica
isolated…
the daffodils wave
in the gardenMargaret Walker
new pasture gate
a path to
yellow forsythiaLemuel Waite, Georgetown, Kentucky
in the woods
worrying about the virus
peepersElizabeth Meer
staying indoors…
on the windowsill
a bluebirdcristina apetrei
cabin in the woods,
pine pollen floats
through the open windowsCharlotte Staats
flowering nettles –
a bumblebee breaks
its buzzingTomislav Maretić
crack in the rock
a green sprig emerges
this year tooKath Abela Wilson, Pasadena, California
purple crocuses
my hope rises
with the sunNancy Brady, Huron, Ohio
watering
spring dreams
melting iciclesCharlotte Hrenchuk
the lure of fresh air
my dog waits
by the front doorRonald K. Craig, Batavia, OH USA
spring snow
the crocuses
persistGreer Woodward, Waimea, HI
spring celebration
a pandemonium
of poppiesSusan Rogers, Los Angeles, CA
Guest Editor Tia Haynes resides in Lakewood, Ohio, near her beloved Lake Erie. She was featured in New Resonance 11: Emerging Voices in English-Language Haiku and has appeared in journals and anthologies worldwide. Much of her inspiration comes from the landscape and people of the American Midwest as well as life with her two small children. Her chapbook, leftover ribbon, (Velvet Dusk Publishing) is available on Amazon. Follow her on Twitter: @adalia_haiku
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).
This Post Has 46 Comments
Comments are closed.
Thank you so much for putting this beautiful collection together Tia and for including my contribution here too. It’s a real balm for the soul to read so many haiku filled with hope and kindness here. May everyone stay safe and well xxx
Hi Tia,
Thank you for selecting my haiku, and commenting about you and your family hugging trees also—it is a lovely experience. I wanted to also express my joy in reading, and re-reading the opening part of this Haiku Mind weekly workshop:
.
Recently, my five-year-old daughter was comforting her younger sister when she spontaneously composed this haiku as a source of solace:
leaving
all that’s left
the fog
I was shocked! I haven’t shared much haiku with her yet thinking it was a bit beyond her ability to comprehend. Well, she showed me! This beautiful haiku came from a heart that knows no poetic rules nor has had any training. It flowed out of a haiku mindset that I believe is inborn in all of us.
.
I am an early childhood advocate, under Papa Green Bean (click on my picture), and love this so much—it rings true to the core of humanity. If we all would respect our children, the world would quickly become a much more peaceful place.
A beautiful read this week, and so much hope in the annual return of spring during stressful times. I appreciated each one, and Tia and Lori Z. for putting it together.
*
breath of spring…
swaying in my rucksack
granny’s herbarium
.
Ivan Gacina
Zadar, Croatia
.
Lovely movement cleansing scents.
*
at her tomb
cherry blossoms arrive
before me
.
Nisha Raviprasad
.
A quiet image that I appreciated on second read.
*
laundry
drying on the terrace…
snowmelt
.
Daniela Misso
.
Loved the white of the damp linens (in my mind) against the last of the snow.
*
pandemic spring
I add daffodils
to my instacart
.
Sari Grandstaff
Saugerties, NY
.
There is both sadness and strength here.
*
Take care everyone!
Thank you Debbie. Your comments are just what I was feeling.
These spring haiku
make my heart sing with hope
haiku endures
Thank you for being present in these trying times and helping us remember the light and beauty.
Re-reading these haiku today — especially those referencing the pandemic in so many creative ways — I found myself strangely unalone.
.
I also noticed that in my prior inadvertently omitted Nancy Brady’s strong and piercing haiku:
.
purple crocuses
my hope rises
with the sun
.
Would that, especially in these trying times, sunrise pulled us and our latent hope into its radiance embrace. And why not?
Thank you Christina. How kind you are. I noticed you also referenced crocus in your haiku. So poignant it is.
Tia, thank you for the honor of being included among your selections! There were many haiku that did an excellent job of capturing the emotions of this global tragedy. I imagine they will also offer a poignant reminder years later. Here are just three of my favorites:
*
the tiny buds
I wouldn’t have noticed
shelter in place
*
Deborah P Kolodji
*
A metaphor for all the things we can learn to appreciate better.
***
self-isolation
the lingering fragrance
of wildflowers
*
Hifsa Ashraf
*
Lingering fragrances and sweet memories can get us through life’s many ordeals, including this one. Another perhaps unintended and unsettling layer is that the first symptom of COVID-19 can sometimes be a loss of smell.
***
pandemic spring
I add daffodils
to my Instacart
*
Sari Grandstaff
*
It would be nice if we could have all the experiences of spring delivered to our doorsteps.
***
“There is a certain comfort that spring will continue to carry on while the rest of the world comes to a halt. That beauty will persist, warmth will return, and light will linger a bit longer.”
*
Well said, and let’s hope the fullness of that light returns as soon as possible. Stay safe, everyone!
Thanks for your appreciation of my haiku.
I recently found out something about daffodils called the “vase effect” which adds a deeper meaning to Sari’s haiku. Daffodils are so cheery and make me happy and if you put them in a vase with irises, the irises thrive and live longer. But, if you put them in a vase with roses or tulips, they become toxic and kill the roses and tulips.
https://www.compoundchem.com/2018/03/23/daffodils-kill/
I just found this an interesting additional meaning to this poem in a pandemic.
And, M.R., I loved your poem, too. Cherry blossoms are so beautiful, yet ephemeral. Beautiful poem.
I enjoyed all of these poems in this time of COVID-19 yet I think they will last beyond this crisis.
Thank you M.R. For your appreciation of my haiku.
sorry – wrong box
1. to pass time over the page print flows
2. the body
spins, spins in pirouettes
stills in arabesques
Crocuses were the first image that jumped into my mind when thinking spring. I love the link Agus Maulana Sunjaya makes with “all the things we decided/to believe,” especially in these troubled times.
.
first crocus
all the things we decided
to believe
.
It seems to me that both the ‘crocus’ and ‘the things we decide to believe’ can break through to light even when, as Hopkins says, “The times are winter.”
.
For the same reasons I muse upon what the ‘secret thoughts’ may be in Alegria Imperial’s
.
secret thoughts
on her lips
first crocus
.
and applaud the persistence in Greer’s simple yet lyrical
.
spring snow
the crocuses
persist
.
I also find Clifford Rames’ lovely one-liner a parallel to my past experiences as well as an anticipation of how my own loneliness may well ebb when I scent this year’s soon-to-bloom lilacs:
.
easing my loneliness the lilac’s sweet perfume
.
Thanks Lori and everyone for this week’s evocative haiku.
Tia, thank you so much for the prompts and commentary you provided. Kudos to all poets who carried on, writing ku that nourished and inspired us against rather bleak global circumstances. Grateful to be a part of the haiku community.
Thank you Tia for including my ku. Congrats to all the authors. Take care everyone!
A beautiful collection of haiku on the signs of spring.
One that particularly stood out for me was-
signs of spring
mosquito control dissolves
in the fog
Michael Henry Lee
Spring awakens mosquitoes.That irritating buzz…their constant reassertion of life is a painful nag. They exercise an overreaching claim to all our little joys of spring. Attempts at dissipating the menace are mostly futile. I like the way in which fog has been used here. Mosquito control measures like fogging have scant accountability, quite a few times the tax payers’ money is siphoned off in ghost bills raised by local bodies. This haiku reads like a parable of our times.
Some poetic respite to the locked down life ! Thank you Tia !
Stay safe and healthy !
Poignant and beautiful:
mother’s blue irises
still remembering her first
split leaf whistle
Robert Kingston Chelmsford, U.K.
Thanks Tia for including me ! Love the collection and totally appreciate the hard work !
Dear Arvinder Kaur
Pleased the my haiku touched you.
Best
Rob
.
Thank you for including mine Tia and what a tremendous selection we have.
Well done everyone!
.
flowering nettles –
a bumblebee breaks
its buzzing
.
Tomislav Maretić
.
This for me is a gentle reminder to leave part of the garden to its own devices.
Something I do each year. The draw of butterflies, bees and other insects is joyous to watch.
Thank you Tomislav Maretić.
Thank you arvinder for your kind words 🙂
At a time of crisis, so much hope shown here with the advent of Spring, at least in the northern hemisphere…and who knows, ‘down under’ as well, with new growth appearing miraculously on blackened trees and scorched landscape.
…
Thank you, Tia, for including mine.
…
So many to admire and I particularly like Louise Hopewell’s
…
jasmine blossom
the first mini skirt
of spring
…
Looking out my window I’ve been watching magnolia buds opening all in a rush with early spring warmth — too soon it seems as each, now, like a fragile cup, holds snow as temps plummet. Even birds wait with baited breath.
Thank you for this injection of hope in a challenging time. Spring is always a little slower to arrive in New England, too, so I appreciate the green spring energy. Honored to be included in this round of so many good ones!
Some of the ones that especially stuck with me:
the tiny buds
I wouldn’t have noticed
shelter in place
Deborah P Kolodji
mango pollen…
spring comes home
on her dupatta
arvinder kaur
spring garden
old friends
show up
Joanne van Helvoort
In the deepness of the forest
the toc…toc…
of the woodpeckers
Julia Guzman
Thank you Kristen for your appreciation !
Thanks Kristen, I appreciate the good word on mine. I also love the others you’ve singled out from arvinder, Joanne, and Julia.
Another one that stood out for me is:
purple crocuses
my hope rises
with the sun
Nancy Brady, Huron, Ohio
We all need some hope in this difficult time.
Thanks Deborah for your kind comment. Yes, crocuses do provide hope: hope that winter will soon be gone and right now, hope for a world broken by a deadly virus. Especially as we shelter in place, noticing the new buds…as your haiku expressed.
Stay safe, stay healthy…
I think an “injection of hope” is quite apt here. There is still so much beauty to behold and this week reminded me of that!
thank you for choosing my haiku – it never ceases to thrill <3
spring snow
the crocuses
persist
.
Greer Woodward, Waimea, HI
.
This haiku is very descriptive of how nature behaves where I live in Ohio. I was not expecting someone in Hawaii to be the poet. Just five words bring a vivid image to my mind.
Thank-you Tia for selecting my haiku for publication. Congrats to my fellow Ohioans Ronald K. Craig and Nancy Brady. I am not surprised that many poets submitted haiku about the coronavirus since the entire globe is being impacted by the pandemic.
Thank you, Valentina.
Ron
Thanks Valentina, and congrats are in order for you and Ron as well. I agree with you about Greer’s haiku. Crocuses persist through snow, which is always a hopeful sign.
Thank you Lori and Tia for putting this all together and for including my haiku .
.
among this week submission That struck me include.
.
open windows
a bee wanders
into the room
Minal Sarosh
.
.
off to work…
the bees are early
this time
Willie Bongcaron, Philippines
.
.
In the deepness of the forest
the toc…toc…
of the woodpeckers
Julia Guzman
So many moving verses, well done to all poets.
Another marvellous collection, Tia.
.
spring breeze
a little more sway
in her step
—Rich Schilling
A gentle uplifting verse, a wonderful observation. This also brings to mind the liveliness of the people in the community, I live in, out and about making the most of the spring sunshine, while observing the restrictions. Lovely words.
Thanks carol! I made it light because I was forcing myself to think of something besides the pandemic and all things related. Thanks for the comment! I’ll take any positivity these days.
Hi Rich
.
It is a struggle to think on the brighter side of life, at the moment, with so many human statistics.
I’m sure you will agree, we are all more than happy for having this thread to portray our feelings.
Having all the hopes and emotions of others to read makes us realise we are not alone no matter where we live in the world. This is the beauty or haiku.
Keep well, keep safe, be positive 🙂
purple crocuses
my hope rises
with the sun
Nancy Smith
.
A colorful and uplifting poem in the midst of our darkening world. No crocuses in my garden, just daffodils parading yellow. Thanks, Nancy.
Thanks Ron, and congrats as well. There is a different smell in the air, and dogs probably recognize it earlier than we do. Our neighbors have the daffodils and they are equally hopeful; they remind me of trumpets announcing spring. You are probably a week ahead of us up at the lake. On the other hand, I love all the crocuses that are planted around the city. They bloom at different times, depending on how far from the lake they are.
We recently discovered crocuses on our property that we hadn’t noticed last year, which was our first spring in the house. They are my little reminder of the unexpectedness of hope. It was my oldest daughter who discovered them and the sheer delight in her voice of “mommy! mommy! come quick! a sign of spring!” has given me buoyancy for days.
bonsai is one snip enough are six too many
Thank you Tia for including my haiku and for putting this together. With many of the usual events canceled, such as St. Patrick’s Day parades and cherry blossom festivals, sharing our haiku here is very welcomed. It is an online creative gathering of sorts. Here are three that particularly struck me this week as my favorites:
isolated…
the daffodils wave
in the garden
Margaret Walker
tender leaves
open up…
stories of spring
Lakshmi Iyer
balance
of snow on Azalea buds
spring equinox
Peggy Hale Bilbro, Alabama
Sari, I am pleased that my haiku struck you in some way. Thank you so much for letting me know.
I have not yet had a chance to read them all but am sure there will be several that will “speak to me”.
thank you, Tia, for your time and effort!
we don’t give up ! the haiku give us strength and hope!
Congrats to all the featured writers!
my favorite ones
strangers
turning into friends
spring wine
*
Adrian Bouter
isolated…
the daffodils wave
in the garden
Margaret Walker
*
coronavirus…
the snowy egret
snatches a fish
Pris Campbell
*
slow thaw
irresistibly drawn
to the IV drip
Ingrid Baluchi
*
tickling
under my toes
grass buds
Teiichi Suzuki
Thank you Cezar-Florin, for mentioning my haiku. I am so pleased that you liked it!
Thank you for noticing my poem, Cesar-Florin.
I’m sure there is a story behind your bluebells, but for now I miss their beauty deep in English woodlands.
Reading these on my failing 4s so hard to comment. Each is wonderful; this difficult time shows how truly essential this writing and blogging are. Thanks to all and to Tia and THF for keeping it–and me–going. Stay well everyone.
Glancing quickly through these haiku, I notice that despite the Clovid-19 outbreak fears, many of the haiku display the feeling of hope. I know for myself that like sap rising spring makes me feel hopeful especially after the grays and cold of winter. Thanks for the feeling of hope you have all given me. Now, to read more closely all of the haiku, and wishing everyone healthy outcomes during this crisis. Thanks too to Tia for all you are doing with this column.
I agree Nancy, there is a ‘silver cloud’ moment when reading these verses.