Patricia Davis’ snowflake

On December 8, 2020 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn HaikuLeave a comment

the rest of its life
in my hand…
snowflake

— Patricia Davis (USA)
(Akitsu Quarterly spring 2020)

I like how the first line could not be referring to a snowflake. It could be anything small that fits in your hand. Though, if that’s the case, it seems to invoke melancholy when witnessing the last moments of its life. If the first two lines refer to a snowflake, I like how a snowflake is given special attention as its shape naturally dissolves. Snowflakes have grace and a delicate beauty. Each snowflake is different in design, yet they are all made of the same substance. This brings to mind the Great Seal of the United States: E Pluribus Unum, which is Latin for “Out of Many, One.”

This haiku reminds us of how temporary our human lives are and to make the best use of our limited time here. It also brings to mind a well-known Buddhist saying: “Form is Emptiness. Emptiness is Form.” Snowflakes are made of water and human beings are mostly made of water. In a spiritual sense, it seems this haiku is marking a transformation from form to formless, from ice crystals to water, to mist to sunlight. Yet, when the sun draws up the water again, and the rain and snow comes, will we be reborn? Who am I? A wonderful haiku with personal and universal significance.

— Jacob Salzer (USA)

A temporary life is manifested in each element of nature, like snowflakes, that delicately take beautiful yet complex patterns in the air but are quite light in weight and barely visible. This is how the fragility of life looks when we reach old age.

“The rest of its life” shows an uncertainty that depends on fate and human touch. In other words, this haiku reflects the compassion and kindness that makes this temporary journey better due to care. To me, the hand symbolizes sympathetic behaviour, support, and caring. Ultimately, we should make life lighter like a snowflake and beautiful like its structure.

— Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

I can see a snowflake slowly fading away in the poet’s hand. It feels like it’s a celebration and remembrance of a short-lived life. Time is relative, though. Our lifespan as humans is minuscule compared to the age of the universe, and possibly the universe before this one. I get a sense from this haiku that this poet wanted to express the ethereal nature of our existence (which might relate to the Japanese aesthetic furyu), but also to cherish it. The idea of divinity popped in my head as well while reading this poem. God is said to have us “in the palm of his hands.” The image presented has resonance with this sentiment in relation to us and nature. Through our actions, we will either allow nature to dissipate or to flourish.

Looking at this haiku technically, the ellipsis works well. It shows the gradual duration that the snowflake fades. Even though the length of the lines is not standard for English-language haiku, I believe the poet did right by not having the snowflake come in the first line. This way, it is more surprising and leaves more white space. In terms of sound, the “l” letters to me have the most power. The lightness of the snowflake is expressed through this sound.

A simple yet profound haiku that gives the resonance of concern, spirituality, and introspection.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

Wilson Bentley’s “Snowflake 332” (ca. 1890). Photograph.

Małgorzata Formanowska’s winter twilight

On December 1, 2020 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn Haiku2 Comments

winter twilight
one by one
crows

— Małgorzata Formanowska (Poland)
(Wild Plum Haiku Contest 2020 – Honorable Mention)

There is a stark contrast and a mystery in this poem. Twilight in winter is deep and quiet, and crows are expert scavengers. What did they find? “one by one” hints that they found something substantial to eat. Whether it is early morning or evening, against the sunlit horizon, this haiku is a meditation on the cycles of life and death. When I read this haiku, I see stars in the night sky giving signs of an afterlife.

— Jacob Salzer (USA)

Winter twilight is a time when the sky reflects the colours of both sadness and healing. The purple and scarlet sky project the deepest feelings of a person who may be either in solitude or meditating. Also, the sky or horizon portrays the road to departure where a murder of crows covers twilight’s hues and turns it grayish black.

Crows in this case may depict the transformation of day into night or personal thoughts/memories that are lost in the darkness. The crows symbolically show how all the colourful activities of life slow down in the evening and become profound and deep like the dark colours of crows or night. It also connects to the protective nature of crows, who before departing or retiring for the night, give a message of annihilation, silence, and peace.

— Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

The image I see when I read this haiku is the sheen of twilight and crows one by one covering that light. It is simultaneously meditative and melancholic. I also noted a harmony of nature, working together to close out a day. In addition, “winter” and “crow” can both be seen as cold words. They are both ominous and a bit dreary.

I enjoy how the writer gives space for the reader to ponder with “one by one.” We are not sure if the writer intended the crows to fly, land, or do another action. But, we intuitively feel the imagery.

In the first line, the usage of “i” lends to the starkness of winter, and the “o” sounds in the second and third lines slow down the pace so that we can easily imagine the crows’ movements. The shape of the poem is also relevant to its content, with each line dwindling in size.

An excellent, sparse haiku that connects different parts of the natural world which creates a potent mood and imagery with just a few words.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

George Henry Boughton, *Winter Twilight Near Albany*, 1858

Samo Kreutz’s train station

On November 25, 2020 By Nicholas KlacsanzkyIn HaikuLeave a comment

train station—
among a pile of luggage
dawn light

Samo Kreutz (Slovenia)
(translated by Alenka Zorman)

I have a certain affinity for trains. So, this haiku naturally piqued my interest. We have a scene at a train station where luggage is left on the platform and is either going to be loaded on the train soon or has already been unloaded. But, among these belongings is the light of dawn, applying its weight.

We usually think of luggage and possessions as our own. However, the world interacts with everything we acquire. It becomes a part of it, and in turn, becomes a part of us. In the context of this haiku, dawn light integrates with someone’s journey, even for a second.

The format is in the usual short/long/short form of English-language haiku. The poem utilizes a dash to cancel out the confusion of the second line becoming a pivot and allows the reader to pause and imagine a train station. There doesn’t seem to be a word out of place or of no use. It is a simple observation with meaningful consequences.

The drawn-out “a” sounds of “dawn,” “train,” “station,” and “luggage” show the casual pace of the train station. The light “l” sounds display perhaps the faintness and beauty of dawn light.

It’s a universal haiku that speaks to our relationship with nature and how we don’t truly own anything.

— Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

A train station is no less than a place for yearning for dreams, reminiscing about memories, feeling nostalgic, and having personal experiences, especially when alone. Moreover, a train station can be related to the departure and arrival of mental states a person can go through on their journey.

A pile of luggage is no less than a burden for a person who is already passing through any of the above-mentioned experiences that keep them engaged mentally or psychologically. In that case, luggage is merely a burden that a person holds but does not relate to or feel any association with. In other words, if train stations are life, a pile of luggage may be desires, longings, and wishes that stays with a person throughout life and they cannot fulfill them.

In my opinion, dawn light is a hope that encourages a person to keep yearning for one’s dreams and wishes and move on in life.

— Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)