November mist
written in the field
a mole’s message

(Woodpecker 1997:2; Modern Haiku 38:2, 2007)

© Wim Lofvers (1930 – 2007) (The Netherlands)

I read this haiku as a nature-sketching haiku. I think that in the third line, “mole” means the kind of animal or the mist’s “mole.” If it is the mist’s mole, it refers to a very small part of nature. So, I can say this nature-sketching haiku is highly up to date.

– Norie Umeda (Japan)

The first line opens as a curtain on an autumn whitened landscape faded into a light fog that makes everything have no edge. This verse prepares the reader for a dreamlike journey in a mysterious world where, at a first sight, writing is the poignant reference to the second line. But in the third line, we discover that there’s a secret code drawn in the earth. The underground job of a mole makes me think of our unconscious thoughts, instinctual pushes which dig into the depths of one’s soul.

We are invited to think to whom the message could be conveyed. Since the mole’s message comes to the surface from the underground, it can be read as a kind of suggestion that the Es-part (still not conscious) of the author wishes to become the Ego—so visible, no more hidden as before.

Also, it seems to me we have a movement of a search towards awareness and the sound of “m” repeated in the first and third lines creates a mesmerizing effect as if the meditative “om” is the key to reach it…

– Lucia Fontana (Italy)

Did you enjoy this haiku and commentary? Please let us know what you feel in the comments.

frozen leaves
a deep silence
within

© Eufemia Griffo (Italy)

(Hedgerow #122, 2017)

For me, this haiku indicates that if we become able to see things from positive a perspective, evil will not remain in our inner self. The “frozen leaves” here stand for a thought process, “silence” stands for the state of tranquility, and “within” is infinity. A portrait of realisation in short.

– Manoj Sharma (Nepal)

There is a beautiful comparison in this haiku. Frozen leaves, where molecular activity has ceased. I can imagine such a deep state of meditation, a state of peace, where not a single thought passes through. Nice assonance in the words too.

– Martha Magenta (UK)

Frozen leaves indicate the lack of movement, motivation, and enthusiasm that makes them less active but not dead. It may be hibernation time where physically there is no activity, but spiritually and mentally, life is fully active. So, it is a transformation period of maturity, where thought processes goes on to the advanced level through meditation, and incubation. The word “within” indicates the process of knowing oneself more.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

I felt a sense of alienation from it. So, I can sympathize with this poem. “frozen leaves” reminds me of long patience. “a deep silence within” shows that it has no voice. The “a” emphasizes “deep silence.” It magnifies “deep silence.”
But “within” … so it is completely divided from the reader.

– Norie Umeda (Japan)

I think the poet sees this moment, leaves being frozen, with a positive spin. The silence can indicate several things: a meditation, a respect for the state of the leaves, or a peace in light of death or frailty.

Usually, we don’t like to have one word for the last line of a haiku, but occasionally we can use this technique to express various feelings. Not only is the last line surprising, and common at the same time (which is often a mark of a fine haiku), but it makes us focus on ourselves as well. What deep silence do we have within ourselves, especially during difficult times? I feel this haiku gives the reader an opportunity to introspect about the peace we have inherently within.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Did you enjoy this haiku and/or the commentary? Let us know in the comment section.

the river—
coming to it with nothing
in my hands

© Leatrice H. Lifshitz (1933-2003) (USA)

Profound and well constructed. I can feel the author’s spiritual sense on approaching the river to receive its blessings rather than to act upon it. Easy to relate to this poem.

– Eric Lohman (USA)

Rivers nurture the earth, creating and sustaining life. They symbolize the flow of nature, growth, a journey or life itself. In this haiku, the river is approached with empty hands. This suggests a deeper meaning of the river i.e. the journey towards enlightenment. A very relatable haiku.

– Martha Magenta (UK)

A river is known for its particular direction that flows with a great rhythm persistently. Maybe, the author wants these qualities, more focused, more organised, more optimistic, and more persistence/balance. Overall, I see the author is looking for a well-disciplined life.

I see another aspect (just relating it to my personal experience). In Pakistan, the monsoon season brings devastating results, like heavy floods, where rivers engulf many villages in remote areas, and also bring a lot of mud with them. I can see a man going to the river with nothing in his hands, maybe a victim of that flood that has left nothing in his hands.

– Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

My tai chi teacher has said: “The best things in life you cannot hold in your hands.” This haiku reminds us of this. It also reminds us that in the river of life, it is universal. Some seem to cling to what is “me” and “mine.” This belongs to “me.” This is “mine.” The focus of attention is on the “me,” which is, ultimately, just a thought. And, in the end, nothing belongs to you. Everything you own—your house, your objects, your car, your money—will, one day, be completely out of your hands. So, it is a humbling reminder. More importantly, this haiku seems to remind us that life itself, and living is not about “me” but about something much greater that includes everyone and everything. So, from the personal, we reach the universal. This haiku also brings to mind: giving can only happen with open hands. When the hand of anger is in a closed fist, a person cannot give or receive. So, the haiku reminds us to take it easy, keep our anger at bay and embrace a big-picture perspective. The haiku is ultimately liberating because we arrive at the river of life with nothing, and trust in the great mystery that somehow, someway, serves all things.

– Jacob Salzer (USA)

One cannot step into the same river twice, someone once said. And here, the speaker is heading to the river with no expectations, open to whatever the river has to offer, hands empty, probably a clear mind, ready to receive what the river is about to give. Perhaps the speaker is an ascetic and has nothing, no possessions that he/she can hold, or, merely someone who is just open to new discoveries from a new river that can never be stepped into more than once.

– Dana Grover (USA)

The last two lines leave a mystery for the reader. We wonder what the poet is doing by the river. Bringing something to the river could imply offering something to perform a ritual. Also, the “nothing” could be an abstract or metaphysical “nothing.” So, in a sense, the poet could be bringing something that is “nothing.”

A river flows and keeps going. Maybe the poet wanted to respect this nature of the river by not giving it something that would impede it. Also, by coming without any expectation, the poet is able to observe the river in its “isness” and become one with the experience of perceiving it.

I enjoy the usage of the dash, as it provides the reader with an opportunity to pause and imagine a river. I also appreciate the simple turn in the last line. Too often haiku try to surprise and shock in the third line. A subtle last line often works better.

The most important sense of sound in this haiku is present in the second line with a string of “o”s. They make the reader feel the void with which the writer comes to the river more starkly.

Lifshitz has written a haiku that is easy to gravitate towards and to feel.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

What do you think or feel about this haiku? Let us know in the comments.