Simplicity of Haiku
Finding authenticity with a few carefully chosen words
My friend’s dog died recently, and she used haiku in her grief process. When she shared her work, so perfectly her in personality and depth, I remembered the poignant simplicity and power of the form. I decided to write some of my own.
And there’s the rub. Perfectionism clicks in and I think, well, honey, you haven’t done this in decades. Make sure you do this right. Start researching and studying and prepare yourself. Buckle in. You are not ready.
Then my kind self takes the reins. Actually, I am ready. Right now. Perfectionism is not the intention of the form. The AI bot in Google search tells me this:
The primary purpose of a haiku is to capture a fleeting moment in time, often related to nature, and convey its essence through concise, imagistic language. It aims to offer a reader a quick, impactful glimpse into a specific experience, evoking a sense of sudden insight or emotion. Traditional haiku often focus on natural phenomena and seasonal changes, using a kigo (seasonal word) to anchor the poem in time.
AI is a new friend with whom I have a complicated relationship… but this is all the direction I need: “concise, imagistic language.” I scare up some recent photos, breathe, and begin.
overcast shoreline
thoughtful heron listens for
shiny tasty lunch
curious stranger
munching the careful landscape
who am I to stare
why are you in here
just more evidence of age
or creative bent?
I have arrived now
but I’ve forgotten my clothes
I hope that’s okay
These past 3 months I have newly examined the broader implications of creative work. I had never even heard of Substack last year when a thoughtful and like-minded friend suggested I use it as a way to get back to my writing. That was my intention when I started—a meaningful side gig while I look for “real work.”
My perspective has changed. The friend who suggested Substack has passed away. As I mourn his loss, I feel a new determination to live life fully. The long-dormant energy and satisfaction of creating, being inspired, and feeling curious are so welcome, so me. I’m 60 now, and time is a finite commodity. I’m ready to fully embrace this creative path, and to mindfully and wholeheartedly trust the outcome.
Glad to be back.