The experience of the moment is the expression of the moment.
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Haiku is the celebration of a moment, at once transient and transcendent. What started as a rigid Japanese verse form of three lines, haiku has become a philosophy, a way of life, a detail that strikes you. A dewdrop quivering at the edge of a petal, the segment of a rainbow from your window, the slant of the sun on grass. “Haiku moments are the will-o’-the-wisps, the purest of them aren’t formed by effort. They arise naturally when we allow ourselves to simply be. Haiku is flavoured by the nature of the writer’s beingness.” To catch the fleeting minute or it’s feeling is the heart of haiku.
The word haiku means the beginning. The haiku poets say they only begin, never end, and the reader has to complete it. If a poem ends with the poet, the reader remains mere audience not an actor. Haiku is actually not saying everything, but connecting, joining the dots, for meaning and possibilities. The controlled beauty of what is left unsaid, is where the communion takes place between the artist and the recipient. It is the interpretation, for every reader derives his meaning from the “tip of the iceberg”.
Matsui Basho, considered the Shakespeare of haiku, has a number of them to his name, the most famous and anthologised being “An old silent pond/A frog jumps into the pond/ Splash!”
The world of silence is broken by a small creature.
The experience of the moment is the expression of the moment.
“A field of cotton/ as if the moon/ flowered”, is an image of unparalleled beauty of flower and moonlight that remains long after it is read. ”A bee/ staggers/ out of a peony”, with the delicious intoxication of nectar and perfume. “A monk sips tea/ it’s quiet/ the chrysanthemum’s flowering.” One can almost see and feel the chrysanthemum gently unfold.
Japan is the land of the cherry blossom, the “sakura”, and a number of haiku celebrate the flower , one of the best known by Basho is “Kannon’s tiled temple/ roof floats far away on clouds/ of cherry blossoms.” Kannon is the Bodhisatwa of compassion and the image created is of the blossoms showering their largesse on the temple. The journey itself is my home, says Basho about the fleeting nature of existence. We get the moment of “ah-ness” in the haiku, “On a leafless bough/ A crow is perched/ The Autumn dusk.”
As Shakespeare was surrounded by sonneteers, Basho was surrounded by haiku poets who recognised him as the master of form and expression. One of the great haiku poets of the time, Kobayashi Issa says, “This dew drop world/ is a dew drop world/ And yet, And yet…”. Written in the aftermath of his young daughter’s demise, it talks of a transient world where grief persists. Yosa Buson’s haiku, “Around white/ plum blossoms dawn/ breaking new.” As he is passing away, he imagines new beginnings . Murakami Kijo confronts change and the ageing process: ‘’First autumn morning/ the mirror I stare into/ shows my father’s face. “
Natsume Sosuki describes desolation and barrenness, “Over the wintry forest/ winds howl in rage/ with no leaves to blow,” a metaphor for the delusion of power.
Published – April 20, 2025 03:45 am IST