Haiku

I've been away for quite some time, travelling and in general being occupied with work. And within this manic world of instant everything, I discovered a form of poetry that I thought I'd never truly appreciate. Haiku.

I've never been much of a fan of romanticist poetry, though it does have extremely evocative imagery. I always believed that poetry should be based on elegance of thought and structure, being characterized by brevity in its form. If not, isn't it cutting it too close to prose ?

On chance, I stumbled upon a couple of scribbled lines of Haiku and that led to a line of interesting research. It turns out that the 17 syllables can convey a powerful image. Like the Japanese language itself, a Haiku, to me, is the hieroglyphic form of prose. To some extent, the development of Haiku in Japan has been aided by both the nature and culture of the land. Buddhism lends itself well to Haiku, focusing on minimalist language to convey the deepest thoughts. For example, the following Haiku in my mind captures the true essence of Buddhism:

a world of dew,

and within every dewdrop

a world of struggle

The best Haiku always instills in me a feeling of serenity and peace. Of realization that there is beauty in this world after all. Of recognition that there is more to life than strife and toil. Of perfection. Of harnessed intelligence. Of quiet contemplation. Of a thousand words.

A couple more that I really liked:

so very still, even

cherry blossoms are not stirred

by the temple bell

--

at the ancient pond

a frog plunges into

the sound of water