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re:Virals 562


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 Dennison. Last week’s winning commentator, Adel Imhof, did not respond with a poem, so co-host Susan Yavaniski chose the verse for this week:

at the end of the diving board yes
— Mary Stevens
Modern Haiku 51.1, 2020

Introducing this poem, Susan writes:

The merest skin of a verse, taut and elemental, baring us to the sun’s blazing heat, to water’s icy chill, to visceral sensations of resistance, hesitation, and fear, as well as release, exhilaration, affirmation. A kinetic, muscular poem embodying aliveness, about ends and beginnings and the sometimes vertiginous spaces between, before which we dawdle, into which we might leap.

Host comment (Melissa):

Haiku are interesting, as so much can be said with so few words, and this verse says a lot. I have had a lively discussion with my fellow co-hosts about what this poem by Mary Stevens may or may not mean. Could this be about a proposal of marriage? Or is that too restrictive? Might this be about any big life decision or perhaps just a decision? Is it as simple as a person standing at the edge of a diving board summoning the courage to leap off? Now, when I read it am reminded of Bashō and his haiku featuring the old pond:

old pond
a frog jumps into
the sound of water

Translated by Jane Reichhold
Matsuo Bashô: Frog Haiku (Thirty-two Translations and One Commentary)

Why? Because I interpret this as embracing life to the full, rather that standing or in this case sitting on the sidelines/pond. However, I could be wrong. I wonder what you think of this? I’d be interested to hear your thoughts. Embracing life, it sounds so simple doesn’t it? How many of us struggle with this? I believe that the majority of us do struggle with this more often than we would like to admit. It takes courage to decide, as often fear holds up back, we imagine all kinds of scenarios, we sometimes catastrophize. Sound familiar? Sometimes making a decision is enough. When I engage with these 8 words I ask myself whether the individual in the poem has been through a dark time and here they are finally breaking out into the light. It feels like a moment of joy, of affirmation, maybe even celebration. The outcome may be uncertain and hence scary, but ultimately by choosing to dive in there comes liberation.

Linda Price:

Mary Stevens has startled me with her “yes” at the end of the diving board. I think Mary must be young (i.e. under 50 years of age) as she is fully engaged with powerful forces of life that will not take anything but a “yes”. I, on the other hand, am not “young”. I came up short and hard at the end of that board. Sigh.

Jennifer Gurney:

This one made me smile! That sense of decisive decision of “yes.” I can feel the person, a child?, walking down the diving board, then pausing at the end. Perhaps looking into the pool and deciding if they can do it. Perhaps working up their courage. That one word – yes – says it all.

It strikes me as very childlike because all-too-often, as adults we hem and haw. We weigh the pros and cons. But as children, we just jumped into the deep end with no life jacket. We walked and we decided. We plunged. We dove.

Wouldn’t it be fantastic if we could live life more childlike with awe and wonderment, with reckless abandon? This poem gives a hint at that feeling. In a subtle, yet exciting way. Had the “yes” been capitalized or italicized, it would have been more so. But Mary Stevens chose a nonchalant way of diving off the board into the deep end by using lower case letters. Those three y-e-s are powerful enough as they are.

This image and this poem will stay with me. I want to live more at-the-end-of-the-diving-board-yes.

Urszula Marciniak:

In life, after a series of small choices, the moment arrives for a major or risky decision. We often have days, weeks, months, or even years to prepare, gather information, and reflect on ourselves and our needs. Some certainly take advantage of this time.  Ultimately, however, the decision is made at the end of the diving board. Sometimes it’s not our decision, but the result of external, or even internal, pressure. Perhaps it’s better to jump than to spend our entire lives wondering what would happen if… The hardest part is when, on the wedding carpet, we’re overcome with doubt about the decision. Perhaps it’s better to say “no,” but everyone is watching and listening.

Sometimes the decision is fully conscious, and the consequences are tragic. We don’t know what’s lurking in the water beneath the diving board. We never have complete knowledge, but decisions must be made. Free will guarantees this. What if we had the opportunity to choose, or the right and obligation to choose?

Radhamani Sarma:

A good haiku providing a platform for swimmers agog in water to showcase their free play. A simple take for us to know more about the diving board; it is a spring board propelling swimmers for action in water. From an elevated board the action hero jumps into the water. Beginning with a conversational tone, an abrupt affirmative conclusion, there is more and more for us to imagine further for speculation. Mary Stevens begins thus:

“at the end of the diving board yes”

“yes” yes for what? Yes for more dreams in water? For more variegated action of swimmers in water?, Yes for a day of delight? For free and free play in swimming pool. In the process there are tricks in air, more show,revel and jump and joy.

Perhaps ” yes” is for romance from the end of spring board, for love from her mate, more revels in water, furthering more and more their intimacy.  The diving board is the propelling factor not merely to plunge into water for swimming, but also for future action, life; while swimming one swims into life’s merry moods, at the same time, probably facing life’s risks too.

A good light read for hilarious mood.

Ashoka Weerakkody:

Maharishi Valmiki was the ‘Adi Kavi’ the very first one to chant a ‘poem’ when he uttered a curse on a hunter who killed a crane, as legend has it.
Now, that’s from no less a sage than the one who wrote the Ramayana, in Sanskrit covering the epic of Lankan king Ravana who flew on his wooden peacock, the first flying machine ever mentioned in ancient writing to ‘invade’ the Indian kingdom to ‘kidnap’ the Queen herself of Rama, the King of Mahabharat. Valmiki then goes on to write the historical accounts of ‘Mahayudh’, the great war between Rama and Ravana. The Ramayana!

When this one liner, “at the end of the diving board yes” appeared as a re:Virals subject, I was instantly taken back to that very first poem Valmiki is said to have quoted from the dying cranes, an incomplete expression of agony!

A passer by on a bicycle hears the agony of a school student who has been asked by the class teacher to compose a sentence using a keyword, ‘the end’ (mind the end of Valmiki’s crane) and the student struggles to complete the fragile line up.  He remembers the diving board from somewhere which made him curiously attracted and went direct to the end, the menacing edge thereof.

The teacher was also on the edge and promoted the student to finish the incomplete sentence.
Student was stalled with “at the end of the diving board…”
The teacher said,” yes.”

The passer-by pedalling away loses the rest of the episode!

Incomplete though it was , like Valmiki’s, the sentence here becomes significant as a remarkably curious piece from a haiku poet.

Sudha Devi Nayak—in at the deep end:

In the powerful monoku, the sentence spilling seamlessly from one line to the other, we see someone poised at the end of the diving board to take off into the waters, albeit with fear and trepidation. The prospect is unnerving but she knows she must take the plunge. She says “Yes” reassuring herself she can do it, she must do it full of an empowering self belief. Her determination and preparedness gives her the momentum that catapults her to the next level and voila she is there! I can imagine her hitting the waves with a splash and rising like a dazzling Aphrodite born to the waters radiant in her majesty.

Metaphorically speaking the diving board is an agent of change, the critical moment between preparation and action. So many doubts assail us, so many conflicting thoughts, standing at the edge of possibility, embracing vulnerability and taking that leap of faith. To meet a new challenge, to meet a new goal, to enter new vistas that lie quietly in wait.  It takes immense courage to leave the comfort zone and chart out on paths anew to reach a destination unknown…”I took the road less travelled/and that made all the difference” said Robert Frost .

Life presents us with so many daunting tasks, that we need to accept the challenge, take decisions and turn them into commitments. There could be the loss of a loved one to accept, the painful divorce to go through with a chin up, the responsibility of bringing up a child as a lone parent that drives us to the diving board. Coming to matters more mundane, wrestling with a job that does not add a whit to your worth, the toss up between passion and paycheck, the dismay at uprooting oneself from a familiar locale, familiar landscapes and faces. Life’s alleys must be navigated, conscious choices to be made, for peace and renewal and the milestone that looks like arrival. The moment before the take off is the hardest. Hard won memories must be left behind to make a place for new memories.

Author Mary Stevens:

When I read this poem at poetry gatherings, I match the cadence to the pace of someone running along a diving board and jumping off, starting slowly

“at the end”

then picking up speed

“of the diving board”

then a pause

“yes.”

When composing the poem, it started in my mind as a three-liner:

at the end
of the diving board
yes

But by the time I got it onto paper, it was one line. I knew almost immediately that I wanted it to be somewhat concrete: the one line representing a flat diving board.

After that, I considered five possibilities:

The poem first came to me as a speculation: that there is at least a little “yes” in every leap into the unknown:

the yes at the end of the diving board

But then I realized that I wanted the “yes” at the end:

at the end of the diving board the yes

While there is some “yes” as one steps onto the board, it’s with each step that we become more invested in the action. We can always turn back—until we jump.

I took out the third “the” because I wanted no language between noun and emotion:

at the end of the diving board yes

This third version is the one I finally went with, but I considered two other possibilities first. I thought of putting a few spaces before the “yes,” which would suggest the “yes” occurring in mid-air: that pause between the springing off and the splash:

at the end of the diving board yes

I also considered spreading the letters of the word the “yes” over the next few lines, to give the effect of a dive in mid-air and to further concretize the poem:

But I discarded these last two versions because I felt the humor would distract from what is actually a deeply spiritual poem. When Alan S. Bridges first read it, he texted me, “I’m guessing this poem is not just literal.” He was right. It’s about the different emotions we experience when making a decision. Resistance, fear, excitement, anticipation are just some of the feelings that accompany the time before we take an action, the outcomes of which we can guess at or hope for, but never truly know in advance. We listen to our longing and run toward it with focus, commitment, enthusiasm, faith—and joy.


fireworks image

Thanks to all who sent commentaries. As the contributor of the commentary reckoned best this week, Sudha Devi Nayak 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:

     
addicted to life—
a superhero beats
intoxication
— Paul Callus
  Haiku Foundation Haiku Dialogue June 3rd 2026


Footnote:

Mary Stevens is author of haiku collection enough light (2023). She judged the Peggy Willis Lyles Awards contest (2024) and serves as panelist for the Touchstone Awards for Individual Poems (2024–2026). She won first place in the Harold G. Henderson Memorial Awards and second place in the Peggy Willis Lyles Awards in 2020. In 2025, she published the essay “The Self Who Writes” (Modern Haiku) and interview “Advice for Beginners” (The Haiku Foundation). She is a member of the Broadmoor Haiku Collective, and with the Route 9 Haiku group, she publishes the biannual haiku journal Upstate Dim Sum. She is a freelance book indexer at Look Within Indexing.


re:Virals is co-hosted by Shawn Blair, Melissa Dennison, Susan Yavaniski, and Keith Evetts (managing editor).

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Comments (3)

  1. Mary Stevens’ poem reminds me of an old story about a thirsty dog waiting at the pond but afraid to drink because of its own reflection in the water. After many attempts, when the thirst finally overtakes its fear, the dog jumps into the water and drinks to its heart’s content.

  2. What with “taking the plunge” and “yes” the first thought that came to mind was a marriage proposal. Not least because I proposed in a swimming pool (at the deep end….)

    However, this verse can be generalised to any decision that carries risk and uncertainty and trepidation.

    That the reader / the poet is already on the diving board, which was optional, suggests that they are tempted by the element of daring and the adrenaline. Now is the moment of commitment and affirmation. It’s hard to turn back.

  3. at the end of the diving board yes
    — Mary Stevens
    Modern Haiku 51.1, 2020

    The neat thing with a monostich, with its intricacies of haiku, is that where a tercet might feel like three utterances, perhaps the single and private exhalation of an affirmative, and affirmation, feels intimate, rather than an amusing two or ‘three’ enjambments. Although of course the triple line presentation does appear to be the whole and full diving tower:

    at the end
    of the diving board
    yes

    Who can say, both versions appeal, the smooth walk along the top board in the monostich, the whole climbing the diving tower stairs, its last pause for effect, checking angle and toes, and letting go, is still there, at the end of the board in a suspended sphere of time. Einstein, or was it Emmy Noether, or Mileva Marić, who had their mathematics taken, had it right.

    Olympic diving is applied physics, it’s angular momentum, projectile motion, plus a little of Issac Newton’s laws, all neat like apple pie. Although Albert Einstein did not invent diving, those theories made possible by Emmy and Mileva, of the two types of relativity (General and Special), explain why time feels different when we, the diver, fall, not fail, and that’s how gravity basically works. It’s one single line of haiku, yes!

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