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| Haiku master BASHO |
Elemental ecstasy – yes, that’s the feeling. A bliss so simple
yet powerful that it finds and fills even the deepest pockets of
emptiness within me. Here, in
this quiet lagoon that is so authentic, I
am safely cocooned from a world that is so artificial.
With
my back leaning against my sloop’s mast, I survey a panorama that
would delight a hunter/gatherer rowing by in his dug-out canoe
hundreds of years ago. Off
my port-side, a predator bird perches alertly on a high branch, and
up past my starboard bow a dormant volcano peeks through the morning
mist.
I
sailed here seeking escape and solace. Too much study of the woes of
this world, and too much failure at lessening them with the medicine
of words, had drained me. I needed the replenishment that can only
be found in solitude and silence.
My
original intent was to wrestle with a topic that had first confronted
me two summers ago on my voyage through the alluring but dangerous
Northwest Passage. It was there that I recognized the probability
that my attempts at philosophical understanding and clarity would
merely
end
up as syllables scattered to the winds. A mortifying thought, if
ever there was one.
But
the tranquility and seclusion of this ancient bay, inspires me to
reflect
on a different subject.
It prompts me to focus on the natural
rather than the personal.
It urges me to exalt in the simplicity and immediacy of this place
and time … here and now. And the best way that I know of doing
this, is to let the troubles of the world deflect away from me, while
I settle into “haiku mind.”
*******
My
first exposure to this ancient Japanese form of poetry came at a most
unusual but serendipitous time. I had been drafted and was serving
on a U.S. Navy ammunition ship in
Vietnam.
In
San Francisco, just before shipping out, I chanced upon some tiny
books of haiku written by an American named J.W. Hackett.
I later would study the translations of the classic poems of the
Japanese
masters, such as Basho and Issa. But these tiny, English-language
gems were my introduction. His
masterful little poems provided me great consolation during a
difficult chapter of my life. And I still have these precious books
as part of my ship’s library.
And
so, in this serene lagoon, I have forsaken inner contemplation and
immersed myself in this exquisite outer environment that is
untarnished Nature, through the enchantment of haiku.
Besides
Mr. Hackett’s superb composition, he also included some valuable
suggestions to help guide anyone else who aspires to creating haiku.
I’ll give you my interpretations of some of his pointers; and then
share some of the poetic blessings that this stillness and serenity
has bequeathed me.
I
call mine Sea Gypsy Haiku because they are not composed on a mountain
trail or beside an alpine lake. All of my attempts were created
aboard AVENTURA either at sea or resting at anchor.
*******
NOW
is the time of haiku. You do not write about an observation or
experience from last week. Merge with what surrounds you in this
place at this time.
The
classic format is three lines of five, seven and five syllables.
However, this is a guideline and not an ironclad rule.
Greater
Nature and not human nature is the place of haiku. Inter-personal
musings are secondary to what appears in front of you. Emotions are
acceptable but as a result of a natural epiphany.
Modifying
words should be avoided, but when used they
should indicate season or location or time of day. Adjectives
do not enhance, they detract from the purity of expression.
Haiku
should be intuitive and direct. They should not be abstract,
symbolic, didactic or intellectual.
*******
Watching
a stingray
leaping
and somersaulting -
my
heart does the same.
Two
brown pelicans
fishing
this sunset shoreline -
sun
beams on wet beaks.
These
mangrove night sounds
both
enchant and confuse me -
are
they birds or frogs?
An
amazing thought -
this
warm lagoon connects to
Japan’s
cold waters.
Bright
stars overhead,
beneath
them my mast and sails,
below
us the Sea.
Finally,
a night
without
lightning – rest well my
valiant
sailing boat!
Secluded
sea home
sits
on posts in the lagoon -
like
the nearby birds.
Each
night wild parrots
fly
right over my sailboat -
does
this bring good luck?
*******
And
finally, on the eighth night a haiku spoke to me which probably
expresses the reason that I dropped my anchor and settled in.
Silent
solitude -
then
haiku inspiration
that
calms and cleanses.