re:Virals 554

“More difficult than making your own verses interesting is understanding those of others…” ―Shinkei (1406 –1475). Citing this, Onitsura (1661 – 1738) wrote: “…this should be a way in which a person is completely given over to training.”

Welcome to re:Virals, The Haiku Foundation’s weekly commentary feature on some of your favorites among the best contemporary haiku and senryu written in English. In the host chair today is Melissa. This week’s poem, chosen by Sudha Devi Nayak was:

touching me
without touching me
sea breeze
Thomas David
Haiku Foundation Haiku Dialogue
April 15, 2026

Introducing this poem, Sudha writes:

The refined minimalism of the haiku where much is left unsaid but deeply implied is evocative of moments that affect us briefly and inevitably pass leaving behind grateful memories. It is the appreciation of the ephemeral, finding grace and meaning and deeper connection in transient experiences. The sea breeze that touches the poet with softness and ineffable gentleness, in my imagination must make him feel soulfully contented.
Being and nothingness, illusion and reality, revelation and withdrawal, make life what it is, a heady mixture of joy and sorrow, aspiration and disillusion. But in these weirdly luminous, epiphanic moments we gain a fulfilment as Blake does on seeing the world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower.

Host comment (Melissa):

I particularly like this poem for its simplicity and economy of words. It is both eloquent and effective, reminding me of a trip to the beach. Sea breeze is a summer kigo, at least in the UK, and it can be welcome on a hot day, as you try to prevent seagulls from stealing your ice cream.

The word touching appears more than once and possibly has than one meaning. Is the wind physically touching the poet or could it be touching them in an emotional sense? Maybe both? That is how I interpret this, as an affecting as well as physical or tangible experience for the poet.

The use of repetition in lines 1 and 2, is an intentional technique that is used for emphasis and to enhance rhythm and musicality. This is apt for a poem featuring a sea breeze, which can tease, one minute you can feel it tousling your hair and then it seems to vanish, and this feeling is often repeated.

There is another dimension to this haiku – philosophy, and whilst the orthodox view is that haiku is not philosophy, there are several classical precedents for philosophical reflection within haiku.

We feel this breeze, yet we can’t see it. Does it actually exist since it has no body to physically touch with? We know this breeze only through its effects, the way it cools our body, evaporates sweat etc. All we have to go on is our sensory data. A question for you the reader is can we trust our senses? I ask this as these shape our understandings and our writing, and yet there is so much that our senses don’t detect or pick up. For instance we can’t see in ultraviolet as bees do, or in infrared like ants. Our senses are shaped by our evolution, and have limits.

My question is reminiscent of Descartes and his famous thought experiment, which explores whether we can trust our senses at all, could the information we receive from these be deceiving? Is the sea breeze in this haiku just a figment of our imagination? How do we know? Descartes begins his experiment by imagining that there could be an evil demon who is tricking him into thinking the world exists purely through this sensory data.

For further information follow these links:

Rene Descartes, Meditation 1, The Evil Demon Hypothesis

Rene Descartes, Meditation 2, The Piece of Wax Example

The upshot of all these explorations is his now well known and probably over-used quote cogito ergo sum or I think therefore I am. Essentially we know we exist and the world exists because we use our intellect or rational understanding, rather than our senses alone.

Descartes’ ideas may be contentious today, as they create a duality between reason and the senses, and I am not making a case for reason at the expense of emotion, but he makes an important point and that is to be open minded, always ask questions, be curious and not take for granted that which we assume to be true.

To conclude, this haiku explores the nature of reality in the first two lines, where the breeze is touching and not touching simultaneously. These words makes us pause, and consider what we really know of existence, and also how we articulate this – could we have reached the limits of language?. I’d be interested to know what you think of my comments here, so I await your responses below!

Dan Campbell:

COMMENTS ON A POEM BY CASTAWAY ROBINSON CRUSOE

Reading this poem touched me deeply and below are my line by line comments on a poem which will be memorized and recited by all castaways.

touching me –
Yes, though no hand reveals itself, I feel the touch as surely as if someone stood beside me. A sea breeze approaches without warning or voice. I stand on this lonely shore, my domain of sand and more sand and I feel it move over me. It feels as if the very air is trying to remember me.

without touching me –
A sea breeze leaves no trace. It brings the welcome certainty that I have not been overlooked. In my years on this island, I have grown used to the company of objects—the rough bark under my palm, the tattered weave of my clothing, the soft sand that responds to each step. This invisible presence finds me unprepared as it swirls around my neck and across the cheek, with a familiarity that startles, as if it knew me in some former life when I was among my brothers and sisters and not the solitary ruler of this lonely island.

sea breeze –
The sea breeze is a wandering messenger. It knows me in my solitude and greets me without a name. I recall how, upon my arrival, this breeze felt almost hostile—a salty breath marking me as a trespasser. But now, after many years here, the breeze comes softened, no longer an accusation but a quiet companion. It has a gentler nature, as if it knew my name. What once unsettled me is now the closest thing I have to companionship in this place. It leaves me with a feeling that I am not completely abandoned to the vast indifference of the sea and sky.:

Urszula Marciniak:

From the time we exist, we have needed touch. Touch doesn’t require hands. The safe environment of the mother’s womb touches us tenderly. In adulthood, we also enjoy the touch of water. We also appreciate a pleasant, gentle breeze.
May we never encounter anything that effectively discourages us from touch, or even triggers a panic attack before the touch itself occurs. Sometimes it doesn’t even have to be physical touch; unpleasant touch can also be experienced in many ways.
Let us enjoy close contact with our surroundings – pleasant, safe. May trust never abandon us. Let us boldly enter into relationships with people and the world. And if the breeze becomes a gale, let us face it.
Let us close our eyes, feel the touch of the world, and become one with it.

Radhamani sarma:

As has been the case, all haiku writers draw their impeccable inspiration from objects of Nature, for a moment of serenity or stability. All of us sail, move, struggle through aggressive times, times when we require a hand for solace, comforting us, a smile, a kind word of assurance, a soothsayer, a message of bounteous comfort.

The writer is so exhilarated by the touch of sea breeze, he knits an imaginary dream into a web of reality. By the sea, a gentle touching breeze, a cool moment: it is inexplicably rare, a moment of serenity. The first line beginning, “touching me” creates a cool ambience, a kind of therapy. His feeling of exuberance submerging his gloom and concern.  In the second and third line what the person implies is that he does feel the sea breeze, for there is a change in the air pressure: air moisture rises steadily to move to land; it is a sea breeze from sea to land, so much so the tongue does not taste the saltish tinge. It is the same sea breeze, incorporating miracles: now it passes off gentle and soft and he misses the much wanted saltish taste. In contrasting images/declarations the haiku poet, adumbrates the duality of sea breeze, its impact on physique and mind, void and movement.

To conclude, it is different from a human touch, human aura, a touch of breeze, ever changing,  ever blowing, seasonal and a kind of serendipity.

Sitarama Seshu Maringanti – beyond words :

There are few experiences that can be described with the limited vocabulary a language permits. Thomas David’s haiku falls into the category of such first hand experiences. Like saying ‘to be or not to be’. Some abstract thing that seemingly touches us but doesn’t stay with us, transient and leaving a momentary feeling of comfort as the sea breeze does to our skin.

Many of us living in the cities on the coastline of India experience the soothing effects of sea breeze twice a day, once in the late morning hours and a second time in the late afternoons. There’s a certain mystic quality to the sea breeze. It offers instant relief from the enveloping heat of the day but leaves us instantly after providing relief to the perspiring body. At the end of the experience we wonder whether something really touched us. A haiku that sets one thinking!

Author Thomas David:

After reading the prompt, I found myself drawn to a different kind of “touch” — something more emotional, perhaps even spiritual. The poem arrived more or less in one go. I did experiment with a few alternatives for the final line, but “sea breeze” just felt right. It’s the closest I could get to that feeling of standing by the sea, where the air seems to move through you.

Thanks to all who sent commentaries. As the contributor of the commentary reckoned best this week,  has chosen next week’s poem, which you’ll find below. We invite you to write a commentary to it. It may be short, to a maximum of 500 words (succinctness will be valued);  academic, your personal response, spontaneous, or idiosyncratic. As long as it focuses on the verse presented, and with respect for the poet, all genuine reader reaction, criticism, and pertinent discussion is of value.   Out-takes are kept in the THF Archives.  Best of all, the chosen commentary’s author gets to pick the next poem.

Anyone can participate. Simply use the re:Virals commentary form below to enter your commentary on the new week’s poem (“Your text”) by the following Tuesday midnight, Eastern US Time Zone, and then press Submit to send your entry. The Submit button will not be available until Name, Email, and Place of Residence fields are filled in. We look forward to seeing your commentary and finding out about your favourite poems. Please note that commentaries must be your own personal work.

Poem for commentary:

  
ripples of water
in the brimming birdbath―
spring breeze
                Anne Curran
                Hamilton 
THF Blog 21st January 2026  

Author Bio: