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Non-duality

May’s column concluded with the advice to not let your ego or your id get in the way of a good haiku. A haiku needs to breathe on its own. Don’t use it to express your own worldview and emotions, or to describe your conditioned behavior. These things tint your work. The great R. H. Blyth wrote, “A haiku is not a poem, it is not literature; it is a hand becoming, a door half-opened, a mirror wiped clean. It is a way of returning to nature, to our moon nature, our cherry blossom nature, our falling leaf nature, in short, to our Buddha nature. It is a way in which the cold winter rain, the swallows of evening, even the very day in its hotness, and the length of the night, become truly alive, share in our humanity, speak their own silent and expressive language.” —  Haiku: Eastern Culture, 1949, Volume One. Translations and commentary by Reginald H. Blyth.

Four days suspended,

By a thin silken spider’s strand—

The dead pine needle

Kevin McLaughlin

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Srija Chakraborty lives in Columbus, Ohio. Srija has that rare ability to “catch life as it flows” in these poems.

Reducing twilight

Doves fighting in the attic

A storm is afoot

Fluttering noises

Shadows of crimson and pink

Butterflies galore

Srija Chakraborty

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Dinesh De Silva truly understands the sacredness of all life, of all nature. He transmutes simple imagery into expressions of the divine light within all.

in a puddle

a poor little boy floats

his paper boat

dark cloud gathers

on elm with falling leaves

as crows roost

a murder

dressed in full black

when crows meet

great vision in the night

at sacred place of worship

where a Church Owl lives

(This is a calming, worshipful haiku that portrays a remarkable owl.)

ascension

by climbing a tall mountain

all the way to heaven

ask mother of Jesus

for a last gasp miracle

with a Hail Mary

(Prayer combined with a bit of humor.)

Dinesh Shihantha De Silva

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Ronald Tobey on haiku: “Like mice, but nice, they fit little spaces.” A brilliant description on many levels! Mr. Tobey was raised in New Hampshire and currently lives in Dawson, West Virginia. He attended the University of New Hampshire and has been writing since he was 15 years old. Since retirement, he cares for horses, goats, and cattle.

Red shed broken down

Rusted roof the hawks kill floor

Rabbit bones sun bleach

(The flow presents a vivid picture. Note to enjoy Mr. Tobey’s syntax as you read his work.)

Hawk in glory flung

Three-feet of wing our window

Expunge small birds sing

Brown doves peck hard seeds

From the gray gravel driveway

Hop across hot stones

Grass dry stems crackle

Deer graze midnight cattle fields

Fox tracks thin rabbits

Second hay cutting

Brush-hog blades bang over rocks

Thin sky pale hungry

(A combination of words/images that presents a uniquely phrased third line.)

Four weeks yellow grass

Two bats clutch our window screen

Dog stalks in pond reeds

Ronald Tobey