re:Virals 565

     
tidal surge this wave of something unutterable
Debbie Strange
Haiku Girl Summer, July 2, 2026
(a monoku, in case your phone screen breaks it into two lines)

Introducing this poem, Jennifer writes:

I chose this Debbie Strange poem for several reasons. I love the reference to the ocean and the depth of meaning that the words tidal surge and wave connote. I also like the nebulousness of the words wave and unutterable. There is so much room for the poet to enter into the poem and linger awhile. I look forward to seeing all the various takes on this monoku.

Host comment (Melissa):

I wonder if this poem would work if it were broken into three lines? I don’t think it would, as it would lose its power and potency. When I read it the structure compliments the words, emphasizing the visual image of a tidal surge washing to shore and engulfing us all. It is a fascinating seven words, as I am left contemplating the concept of the unutterable. What could this be? What is welling up inside that is so uncontrollable, so powerful that we don’t dare utter or repeat it to anyone? What would happen if we gave voice to this emotion? How would this act shape or alter our lives? I think this is an experience we all have at some point, when emotions seem overwhelming and surge to the point of taking over: when our self control is ebbing away, and it is a struggle to keep this surge at bay.

Shalini Gupta:

There is a strong sense of an impending gloom in this monoku when viewed from the perspective of nature, a phenomenon triggered perhaps by tectonic shifts, leaving the observer speechless in a matter of seconds. However, it also carries emotional weight, like a barrage of words, rising up like a tidal wave inside someone, triggered by something in the immediate environment , keeping to themselves in silence, as if either there are no words to describe the feeling or no one to share it with or it is too dangerous to reveal. Powerful line!

Sudha Devi Nayak:

This haiku is more than what it says. In a purely physical sense as the poet sits in the sands close to the waters a massive tide sweeps over her startling her out of her quiet contemplation. As a haiku there is a deep connection between the writer and the recipient and each reader reads his own script in the fleeting moment – I see in it a metaphor for life itself.

A tidal surge of indescribable joy and beauty can overwhelm one in deep despair and grief that visits one with stunning suddenness. Perhaps the poet is revelling in a scene of quiet beauty like the flower fields of Van Gogh or the unutterable peace Thoreau found in his Walden Pond. A brief escape from the turmoil and pace of life experiencing that exquisite sense of ineffable happiness. When we hear the silver warbling of birds across dew drenched fields and see the first rays of the sun brightening the horizon -“What at such times are histories, cosmologies, traditions,and written revelations?” asks Thoreau.

Or when one is confronted with extreme sorrow at the loss or disappearance of something greatly treasured? The loss of a loved one or someone dear languishing in a rehab cell or a calamity where the efforts of a lifetime stands wasted and you are back at square one? Or the panic of being uprooted from one’s beloved home and hearth?

Joy or grief,sunshine or cloud,light or dark life’s profound moments spring from extreme experience like the tidal surge and for a time we have lost our equilibrium.  But after the surge we experience the joy that lifts us above the whirligig of life or the awakening that accompanies grief and the peace that comes with understanding. The tidal surge gives the ultimate meaning to living experienced in a flash and can indeed be transformative.

Urszula Marciniak:

The tide is usually overwhelming and inexpressible. Sometimes it can be a wave of pleasant emotions. We may be ready for it, but usually we aren’t.
We want life to flow according to our plans. Perhaps it would be better if it flowed in a way that was good for us? Let the tide surprise us. In time, we will appreciate what it has brought.
Inexpressibility teaches us humility. It’s not up to us what wave will wash over us, but it is up to us how we deal with it.

Alan Summers:

There is something about a single line delivery of a haiku aka monostich haiku that takes us on a journey without having to step off at a road house with or without Patrick Swayze.

Here we might navigate tidal pools and riptides, one safe, one not so, where the unutterable is everywhere, sometimes uttered too much rather than not all. Here, this single wave of words brings sound and movement, froth that becomes spume aka sea foam. It’s all a wonderful mass of bubbles as rough waves become rich in algae and plankon and even a discarded barbie doll or dummy, who knows! What happens is it’s nature’s way to trap long-lasting bubbles and that should count for something. A highly enjoyable romp of the mind from tide in tide out, thank you Debbie, and Mr. Miyagi although he actually said “Wax on, wax off.”

Radhamani Sarma:

A powerful monoku that provides an opportunity for us to know nature’s potential rhythms impacting human life. This writing by Debbie Strange brings out her keen oceanic study, observation and analysis with a finding that it is at once a thrill and a threat. We have heard studies about waves, storms, tides, sea surges with flooding beyond the boundary causing havoc to humans. The sea is the most mysterious, admirable of all four Nature’s creations propelling our curiosity: where is the beginning, where is the end?

A tidal surge is a rise in sea level caused by stormy winds. Taken in its totality “this wave ” has ” something unutterable”. The repetition of waves, gyration, has a melancholia at the same time, the repetition of sounds has something unique.

The most significant factors are rage and surge, calm and roar, toss and recede – there’s something unique in the study and research methodology of marine dive. In fact one can boldly assert, in the study of biology, zoology mammals and whale songs – fish and oyster, pebbles and long stretch of sand- all closer to this watery realm ” unutterable” .  Poets and scientists and thinkers have written innumerable verses in praise of the ocean.
Man’s powerlessness before the mighty roar of the ocean is well augmented by poets and writers.

Apostrophe To The Ocean by George Gordon Byron

“roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean-roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin-his control
Stops with the shore;-upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own,
When for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, unconfined, and unknown.”

To put in a nutshell, the roar, the surge has something unique, inexplicable beyond words and it is a musical voyage.

Ashoka Weerakkody:

By expression of intent this is a monoku, despite fears that phone screen might break it in two. Technology of course, can do such daring unwarranted things for the sake of accommodation and we can still outsmart it by exercising precaution, if pre-warned duly by someone who knows. On my device it’s two lines already and I have to, at this receiving end, mend the parts together and reproduce the monoku for my entertainment. Just like in radio, l presently feel, since in wireless broadcasting the same happens. The radio people at the transmitters put out into the ether an energy wave consisting of a radio frequency carrier modulated with an audio content, which travels at the velocity of light through space till it’s captured by the receiving antennae and fed down the line to our receiving setup at home. The radio wave, if sampled with appropriate gadgetry would show itself up as a “tidal surge” of the wave of electromagnetic energy that has just reached us from far far away, carrying the ‘intelligence’ we can’t hear yet at audio quality. But the good people at radio works have built into the home receiver a device called the ‘detectoror/demodulator’ that can remove the “unutterable” radio frequency carrier wave -the RF envelope- now no more needed as the carrier duty is over, and the (utterable) audio voice comes out of the speaker.
Such is my take, of the monoku offered for our deciphering by the good people of re-Virals this time round!

Jonathan Epstein:

A climate change haiku that warns of an upswell in tropical cyclones. The image “tidal surge” (aka storm surge) triggers memories of mobile phone videos recording violent winds pushing rising ocean water onto coastal plains and wreaking havoc with all in its path.

The single-line format of the monoku mimics the horizontal path of the storm surge. In the face of increasing cyclonic events, the “unutterable” effects of past, present and future — “this wave of something unutterable” — bring to mind Munch’s haunting figure on the bridge, described by him in his diary (1892) as “a vast infinite scream [tear] through nature.”

An impactful haiku reminding us that while human activities have led to global warming and climate change, Nature will mete out the punishing consequences of ignorance and denial. In our cause-and-effect world, both action and inaction bear karmic fruit.

David Cox:

The monoku is monolithic in its sweep and, in a sense, does arrive like a tidal surge. The idea of an enormous wall of water comes to mind, as in the shared video footage of the tsunamis of 2004 (Indian Ocean) or 2011 (Fukushima). The strength of the implied metaphor doesn’t just draw our attention; it demands it.

The unutterable functions as an algebraic variable. It is up to the reader to place value **on** the enormous, ugly realities of the day which are so immediate, large, and ultimately unavoidable, yet avoided, like the enormous elephant in the room. I always used to tell my students that, when understanding a poem, the experience of the poem itself is the important precursor to this process: “let the words wash over you.” Pronouns are not anathema in haiku, but they are not frequently used. The use of ‘this’ as a demonstrative pronoun implies the speaker’s familiarity with it and therefore with what appears to be unspeakable (like the pronoun protagonist of a well-known Stephen King novel); the use of “something” accentuates this sense of something not fully understood or not of this realm. Here is evoked a ‘Voldemortian’ horror, “something” dangerous and quite insidious that has found its way into our safe harbour, perhaps something that Yeats might describe as “terrible beauty”, as it has the capacity to change things “utterly”. In this extended metaphor of being overwhelmed by a rising tide, one wonders if we are complicit in the decimation caused by the figurative ‘wave’ for not acknowledging it, for not talking about it, for not calling it out for what it is. I can’t decide if it is a wake-up call or a warning.

Peggy Bilbro it’s all interpretation:

This poem leaves so much space for the reader. That something unutterable could be a tragedy that can’t even be put into words, or a surge of love that is too deep to fathom. At any rate, it seems to come in a surge, as does the tide, and to take one’s breath away, washing over the body and the soul with the force of the ocean’s tide. This wonderful poem from Debbie Strange is a gift to the reader to do with as they wish.

Author Debbie Strange:

This piece was written based on a phrase in my fragments folder. I wrote it as a monoku so that the form would convey the surging patterns of waves and emotions…

tidal surge
tidal surge this wave
tidal surge this wave of something
tidal surge this wave of something unutterable

For this haiku, I sought one impactful word that would express my overwhelming sense of grief as I navigated the passing of a loved one, the loss of a friendship, and increasing lack of mobility due to chronic illness flares. A sense of ambiguity is fundamental to this poem. I hoped readers might relate to “unutterable” in their own way, be it unfettered joy on a beach day, or unfathomable sadness while scattering ashes over the water. The ebb and flow of tides have meditational qualities that are conducive to reflection, and sitting at the ocean’s edge fosters an emotional response in me, ranging from exhilaration to solace, and everything in between.

Thanks to all who sent commentaries.  As the contributor of the commentary reckoned best this week, Peggy was asked to choose next week’s poem, but as of the deadline we haven’t received it, so our host has chosen the one 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:

     
tide
the castle sinks
into its moat
—Edward Cody Huddleston
  Wales Haiku Journal Summer 2026

Footnote:

Debbie Strange (Canada) is a chronically ill poet, artist, and photographer whose creative passions connect her more closely to the world, to others, and to herself. Her haiku collection, Random Blue Sparks (Snapshot Press, 2024), received 1st Place (joint) in the 2026 Haiku Canada Marianne Bluger Book Awards, and 3rd Place in the 2025 Haiku Society of America Merit Book Awards. Please visit Debbie’s publication archive at https://debbiemstrange.blogspot.com/ for further information, and follow her on Instagram @debbiemstrange for examples of her work.

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

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