5 Things I Like About this Haiku I Wrote
If I’m doing a good job taking time to write and reflect, at any given time I have several different journals and notebooks lying around, each with a specific use. In May 2023, one of those journals was being used for lunchtime reflections in between work. I had given notice at my job but still had two months to wrap things up, and in this liminal space I had a whole lot of feelings I needed to sort through. So, I would take my lunch and drive up next to the buffalo herd off I-70 and write about those feelings.
One thing I wrote during this time was a haiku. I credit the video game Ghost of Tsushima for piquing my interest in haiku with its really interesting mini-game mechanic that lets you take a break from slicing up people with a samurai sword to create poems by choosing lines from a variety of pre-written options, resulting in exceptionally beautiful moments in an exceptionally beautiful game—this video is a compilation of all of them, and watching just a few can give you the gist:
Getting started with those training wheels gave me the push to just go ahead and write my own once in a while, especially when I’m sitting in nature. One of these haikus I liked, and I now write it or think it any time I need to take a minute:
I sit here again.
Outside the sky is still blue.
Still, much else has changed.
Here are 5 reasons I like this haiku:
1. It started in quarantine
Our loft is one room with huge windows. I spent a lot of time during lockdown in that room looking out through those windows, and I got very familiar with the shade of blue that’s reflected in the window across the street just after dawn, which is close to Ernie Ball Speed Blue, and the blue you can only see at night in the winter when the tree loses its leaves, which looks like Ernie Ball Vintage Blue Pearl.
Without a whole lot else to do I did a lot of sitting and thinking, watching some things change and some things stay the same. Hence, the theme of this poem.
2. It works anytime
Whenever you read or write that first line, the meditative process starts anew. You could rewrite the poem with the actions each line provokes:
[Notice the present moment]
[Think about what is constant]
[Think about what is changing]
I like that reading or re-writing this poem forces me into at least a moment of self-reflection.
3. It fits with tradition
I think many of us learned haiku in elementary school because the 5-7-5 syllable structure was simple, but just because something is simple does not necessarily make it any less profound. Haiku apparently can be traced back as far as the 13th century, and according to www.haiku-poetry.org it has these traditional characteristics :
An English-language haiku sometimes contains of 17 total syllables
English-language format is sometimes composed of 3 lines of 5-7-5 (syllables)
2 simple subjects are often placed in juxtaposition
These 2 subjects are often separated by punctuation
A keen or unusual observation is made by comparing the two subjects
Haiku often contains a seasonal reference
Poems are traditionally about nature or the natural world
For me, the subjects of this poem can be considered slightly differently whether you want to contemplate “permanence / impermanance” or “internal / external”, and the idea is to place yourself in the natural world, at least mentally if not physically, as you consider those subjects.
4. It has cool repetition of “still”
The word “still” is very versatile, as it can be an adjective (“not moving or making a sound”), noun (“deep silence and calm”), adverb (“even now as formerly”), or verb (“make or become still”). In line two I wrote it as an adverb, but also sometimes I think of it as an adjective. In line three I also intended it as an adverb, but maybe also it’s an adjective or noun or even a verb command depending on the moment. And, that comma in line three forces a breath and acts as the verb meaning. With so many open possibilities, the poem can be different every time you read or write it.
5. It gets to stay with me
I recently read the book Now is Not the Time to Panic by Kevin Wilson, which is a really cool story that centers around two teenagers who create a piece of art that ends up changing their lives quite significantly. One component of their work is two sentences: “The edge is a shantytown filled with goldseekers. We are fugitives, and the law is skinny with hunger for us.” Frankie, the character who writes those lines, ends up repeating them in her head for the rest of her life.
Like I said earlier, I have written this poem out dozens of times and said it internally even more, and it makes me happy that I made something that can stay with me, both of us changing and both of us staying the same. Now that I’ve shared it, you can of course have it too if you want.
Want to write a haiku for yourself? Want to discuss the creative process? Need a set of eyes on something you’re making? I’d love to talk!