Haiku seems to be popping up all around me this summer and keeping me on track with my off-again-on-again practice of writing a haiku a day. Most of the ones I wrote through the end of July were about the lack of rainfall here in New Mexico & my very dry garden.
the sky grows dark.
thunder. lightning.
not a raindrop falls.
Once I got to Vermont, where it is very wet (rain every other day, and my sister’s house is surrounded by lakes and ponds), water became the recurring theme.
far across the lake
a loon’s cry.
cattails at attention.
While in Vermont, I attended a reading given by David Budbill, whose poetry is very haiku-like. Then last week I went to the opening of From a Distant Road, an exhibit at the Museum of New Mexico that includes John Brandi’s contemporary haiga (haiku poems accompanied by brush art work). That’s an example above, and click on it to see more of his pieces from the exhibit.
Brandi gave a talk before the reception, introducing us to the history of haiga. But most interesting to me were his comments on his practice of writing haiku — that it was often about encapsulating an “aha” moment or that he sat outside and wrote about what was happening around him. I usually write at the end of the day and use it to reflect back on what took place that day, with my generally imperfect memory.
I quite like that notion of summing up the day with a haiku. It seems that would make one focus on the important things to remember, rather than a long, confessional litany.