Spring Haiku Collection

seventeen short poems that reflect our life in April

1a

spring wind whips the field

dances with the soccer ball—

stamp numb feet and cheer

1b

cradle charcoal mug

breathe in its cinnamon steam—

then go back outside

2

What are leaves made of?

Chlorophyll and sunlight. Green

tongues unfurl in praise.

3

wisp moves on the lamp

shade—leg like a floating hair—

spider scurries by

4

bright and glowing fire,

ignite my heart to burn best

for you in secret

5

fluffy shock of hair

illumined boyish profile—

touched by evening sun

6

Bread of Life, sate

me as only you can.

Touch me, holy coal.

7

A day of trying

feels like a new beginning—

turn this ship around.

8

evening sun gilds cars,

grass, and boys—running legs chase

the soccer ball

9a

looking at his feet

turning with the bike wheels

my son learns to ride

9b

crabapple blossoms

hang pink ruffled canopy

over our books

9c

slight dip in sidewalk

makes wheels accelerate

tipping, tipping, crash

10

(my 5-year-old’s accidental haiku about Jesus)

When he touches dead

people, they become alive.

How does he do that?

11

(naptime haiku on Holy Saturday)

Eyes closed, lying still

in the darkness. Tomorrow

the tomb floods with light.

12

My spring young heart sits

in my middle-aged body,

unaware of age.

13

Have you felt mothered

by your own mammalian warmth?

Hand on your soft skin.

14

There must be a smell

I love more than fresh cut grass.

But what is it?

---

Promise by MW+

Composition Notes:

Lorrie Tom’s Poetry Pie Writing Challenge gave a welcome haiku slant to NaPoWriMo this year. I enjoyed reading Tavia, Lorrie, and Kortney’s posts that compiled their haiku into a collection telling the story of their month and was inspired to do the same. Themes emerge, images coalesce, and snippets of poetry become a reflection of a life.

Haiku affords us the ability to inhabit an instant in an intentional way. We all know how prone we are to distraction, and haiku is a welcome tool in paying attention and recording a moment. The effort of counting syllables confined to a single breath requires practice, much like the compression required for writing a sonnet. We are not allowed to say everything we want. Paradoxically, this confinement often helps poets to find out what they want to say. The restriction becomes an avenue to expression.

Reviewing the collection, I see that I tend to break the rules when writing haiku: wanting to include titles and punctuation and write about my thoughts more than the natural world. I am often enjoying the outdoors with my children: watching a soccer game, teaching someone to ride a bike, reading outside. Humans often become the focal point of my haiku rather than nature. However imperfectly the form is employed, haiku is a gift. Writing and sharing them as a community make me feel that I am part of a greater conversation, and so I add my spring haiku collection to the ones below with gratitude for the Substack poets who have made me feel so welcome here.

Poetry Pie Writing Challenge

The Story of April in Nine Haiku

The Month in Haiku