at my gate
the artless pigeon too
sings "It's spring!"
waga kado ya gei nashi hato mo haru wo naku
how far across
this deep snow
for a decent spring
ôyuki no do[ko] ga doko made rokuna haru
- Issa Kobayashi
Spring visits Boston again. Magnolias flirt with the nose; sparrows chatter from their hidden posts; winter tweeds are packed away even as bared legs peer with renewed bravado from under flowered skirts. The cafes are always crowded. Duck boats begin their lazy rounds of the water in Boston Common. The Boston marathon is hosted, cheered and taken inspiration from. Much beer is guzzled.
My first ever brush with spring was in Japan. Glimpses of cherry blossoms stolen from speeding shinkansen trains. A blur of pink against a cameo of stark steel buildings.
One either has to be a martian or woefully pollen allergic to not feel uplifted by this season.
Like spring, haiku takes my breath away. There are many websites devoted to haiku (17 syllable despot) rules but who says one has to be an expert chef to relish a signature dish! Suffice it to say that haiku is poetry's Kodak Moment. A crystallized image, dazzling and zen-like in clarity, held up for admiration.
the artless pigeon too
sings "It's spring!"
waga kado ya gei nashi hato mo haru wo naku
how far across
this deep snow
for a decent spring
ôyuki no do[ko] ga doko made rokuna haru
- Issa Kobayashi
Spring visits Boston again. Magnolias flirt with the nose; sparrows chatter from their hidden posts; winter tweeds are packed away even as bared legs peer with renewed bravado from under flowered skirts. The cafes are always crowded. Duck boats begin their lazy rounds of the water in Boston Common. The Boston marathon is hosted, cheered and taken inspiration from. Much beer is guzzled.
My first ever brush with spring was in Japan. Glimpses of cherry blossoms stolen from speeding shinkansen trains. A blur of pink against a cameo of stark steel buildings.
One either has to be a martian or woefully pollen allergic to not feel uplifted by this season.
Like spring, haiku takes my breath away. There are many websites devoted to haiku (17 syllable despot) rules but who says one has to be an expert chef to relish a signature dish! Suffice it to say that haiku is poetry's Kodak Moment. A crystallized image, dazzling and zen-like in clarity, held up for admiration.
Read more about Issa here.
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