Drift 4
Three haiku each for two disparate settings.
I continue my practice of writing haiku. Again and always inspired by Richard Wright. For the fatigued mind, writing haiku has felt akin to embarking on a regular walking meditation, though its creative transmutation gives the practice more urgency and an even deeper, honed presence. Because the form traditionally eschews analysis, and I myself can easily ruminate into an abyss, I feel a sense of freedom in haiku’s impartial and syllabic confinement. The amount of discernment required opens up language to me in surprising ways, and focuses my sight into awareness.
But, of course…I wanted to play with the form, too. The first three haiku, written for—and in—West Virginia, are more traditional, because I was writing/observing in a more traditionally natural place. The second collection of haiku, written for/in New York City, provided an opportunity to slightly subvert the form, to describe the phenomena of manmade metropolis in organic terms.
These are obviously not perfect poems but more indicative of a new, unfastening writing process. They were a joy to write, and hopefully, are a joy to read.
THREE HAIKU FOR WEST VIRGINIA
Sun soaked in new rime,
a wind-excised twig seeking
ground for a body.
Two sparrow spar by,
to vanish in morning moon;
they emerge, black ash.
Wisp lit cloud, rough sketch
upon a clear, lucid sky
otherwise drawn blank.
THREE HAIKU FOR NEW YORK CITY
Silver-striked sun beam raids retina and footpath all blinded metal. A sharply worked face, etched architecturally of soft, dazzled dawn. Grass seed splayed in tufts, sprouting sporadic, emerald cased in iron wrought.