the ant
wanders across the floor . . .
meditation room
Akitsu Quarterly, Summer issue, 2017
© Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)
We have a father-son team this time with Mark Salzer (father) and Jacob Salzer (son):
Shenzhen has over 14 million people, and from a high rise building, appear as ants moving around in the hustle and bustle of daily life. It reminds me how easy it is to get sucked up in duties and chores, the mechanics of our lives. We are above the level of ants, of course, can pause and appreciate our world and existence, but are also part ant…. The universe is doing its thing, without regard to anything I think, do, or want, so a sobering haiku in the sense that despite our willful efforts to pause and meditate, life moves on all around us, the universe waits for no one…the ants keep wandering. There’s a time to pause, but also a time for us to wander, do what we do.
I also see the wandering ant as a symbol of simplicity, a reminder to want little, appreciate what we have.
Ants also have a social sense, social duties and responsibilities, another reminder….
– Mark Salzer (USA)
This is a powerful haiku that reminds us to embrace a different perspective. In the end, it seems the ego is not as big as it thinks itself to be. The other thing I get out of this haiku is solitude. There is only one ant in this haiku, which is interesting, as I usually see a trail of ants or a bunch of them gathering together. This makes for a bit of mystery, as we don’t know where the ant came from. It also leaves us with a paradoxical feeling: is the ant lost? Or is it on an adventure discovering things to bring back to his or her colony?
It seems the ant could be equated to a thought. Thoughts appear to wander in and out of our consciousness, but the empty floor of the meditation room remains silent, and allows all thoughts (and ants) to wander. The ant is small, but an inherent part of life as a whole. In this way, the haiku reminds us to appreciate the small things that often go unnoticed. The haiku also provides a humbling reminder: it seems some things are beyond us and will remain a mystery.
– Jacob Salzer (USA)
Did you enjoy this poem and commentary? Let us know in the comment section.
Interestingly Lisa Shea comments on the famous Japanese ant haiku, and mentions she was in a yoga room, alone except for appreciating the company of an ant. Her yoga instructor arrived, and she was introduced her to the ant, and she promptly killed it (the instructor that is).
蟻殺すわれを三人の子に見られぬ
ari korosu ware o sannin no ko ni mirarenu
I kill an ant
and realize my three children
have been watching.
— Shuson, trans. Ueda
the ant
wanders across the floor . . .
meditation room
Akitsu Quarterly, Summer issue, 2017
Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)
Whether the line breaks are dictated by the author wishing the classic Western convention of short line long line short line over three lines (tercet) they are interesting choices.
It brings the ant into sharper focus which would be diluted if the verb is brought up, with or without the preposition (prep) / adverb (adv) of ‘across’.
the ant wanders across
the floor . . .
meditation room
the ant wanders
across the floor . . .
meditation room
And having done meditation in various places including ashrams, it’s a classic trope that we might give into our brain wandering and leading us by our nose (figuratively speaking).
Does an ant meditate? In some ways yes, as it’s focused on A-B whether in a straight line or obstacles, that’s its route not allowing anything to distract, even if it has to go around something.
Did the human decide to pick on a spot and too late that spot or speck turned out to be a fellow living and moving animal? There’s the rub. We set ourselves up neatly, initially to meditate, and let the old brain, that 24/7 365 days a year entity, take us on its own wandering.
I’m also reminded of Pixar’s A Bug’s Life where an ant is the hero, and I realised they shouldn’t be killed. Sometimes we need to meditate without the construct of a specially designed exterior venue.
Let us hope that the dots were joined up in the end and the person let the brain wander off on its own, just like the ant!
warm regards,
Alan
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Alan, thanks for the great commentary! You reflected on exactly what I was pondering during the writing of this haiku.
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Reblogged this on Frank J. Tassone and commented:
#Haiku Happenings #3: The Salzers comment on Nicholas Klacsanzky‘s haiku!
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The haiku, ‘the ant’ is a poem with substance in its brevity. The ant’s psychological condition speaks a lot about loneliness. Thematically the L3, meditation room, imparts a great philosophical symbolism to the poem. The prayer manifests an entity of self-realisation. The recognisation of tiny feature embodies a zen-feeling in the haiku. It reminds me of my poem, ‘Ants’ metaphorically portrays the art of discipline for achieving success.
It is a train of ants
That makes the bridge
Over the gaps
Of success.
World Poetry Anthology, 1991
*****
evening prayer–
a mosquito on my
folded hands
Pravat Kumar Padhy
Publication Credit: Bones Journal, No 15, March 2018
The ant, in Nicholas haiku, is a metaphoric symbol of strength and poetic ecstasies. Indeed, it connects the divinity in solitude.
the breeze carries
the silence beyond–
meditation hall
Pravat Kumar Padhy
Publication Credit: Akitsu Quarterly, Fall Issue, 2017
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Thanks for the commentary and for your poems!
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And meanwhile the ant is observing :
*From : “A Senryu Ana”
by Daniel Franklin Janes
“RECOGNIZE”
so why are the poor
always wrong in this country
because they tain’t rich
DFJ 5/28/18
#Zen #senryu #koan
#FocusedVerse
#WhereAreTheChildren
#Impeachement
https://t.co/iM8zlyOmLp
___
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