Muskaan Ahuja’s Robin

winter dusk
the robin’s last chirp
before hiding into a tree

Muskaan Ahuja (India)

Winter dusk is a time of converging all the thoughts of the day where one focuses on the inner state of mind—in other words, the locus of control is one’s own self. The mysterious magic of the forces at dusk creates a great impact on the psyche of a person where they are attracted by the invisible pull of the inner self.

The last chirp of a robin may indicate the departure or annihilation of life that comes before one has possibly enjoyed life fully and then ends up in deep silence.

The hiding into a tree is more like an occultation where there is no more left to say or do. A life full of mysteries and chaos let us go through experiences where we enjoy positivity, happiness, and blessings but when all is over, we have nothing except silence and loneliness.

Another aspect of this haiku can be a deep understanding of life after passing through various experiences that enrich our intellect and bring maturity. This is the stage where people enjoy their solitude and silence more than words.

It’s the focus of life from outside where worldly life builds up a dwelling for our end, which is annihilation and mortality.

From chirp to deep silence, from dawn to dusk, from interaction to solitude, all these stages of life show a momentum towards our ultimate destiny, which is nothingness.

Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

We have the kigo, or the seasonal reference, right in the first line. As you probably know, haiku are traditionally seasonal poems, and starting a haiku with a kigo is a safe bet and a fine idea.

With “winter dusk,” we can get the picture of cold solitude and maybe melancholy. This tinge of the solitary is continued on the second line with a robin’s last chirp of the day (or perhaps of its life, for any number of circumstances).

Haiku often focus on one thing at a time to allow readers to dive into that moment more readily and to gain a sense of mindfulness. You can say it’s a tradition to focus on one thing at a time in the spirit of Zen, which is popular in Japan (ichigyo-zammai). Haiku is not a Zen art, but its history is intertwined with it. So, having this philosophy on display in the craft of this haiku is well-founded.

In the last line, we see the robin taking refuge within a tree cavity or deep within the labyrinth of its branches. The robin is essentially going through the process of its own dusk. Its chirp is colorful like the sunset and then recedes like the dying colors of the sky. In this way, you can say dusk and the robin are both manifestations of each other.

Looking at the haiku in a technical sense, we might first notice the unusually long last line. It’s common practice to have a shorter last line than the middle line. However, it’s not only difficult to format the lines differently without creating an issue but also it’s not long enough to be of concern. Like most great arts, haiku writing doesn’t have strict rules and allows for plenty of exceptions.

I think the first line could have benefited from a dash to add to the serious mood of the haiku. But, the poem is fine without it and no problem is created with the absence of punctuation in this haiku. For the sound, I felt the letter “r” was particularly important. It gave the haiku more weight.

This haiku captured the mood of winter dusk through a strong visual and sensory sense and brings readers to stillness and introspection.

Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

winter dusk

– “Winter Road” by Ian Ramsey

Kat Lehmann’s River

what remains
after the river is gone
this empty bed

Kat Lehmann (USA)
Published in Mayfly 68, 2020

I always wonder how to express my deepest feelings about certain themes of life that are well connected with the most essential element of nature: ‘water’. I love it when someone challenges me to write about topics that really cover annihilation.

In this haiku, Kat beautifully expressed her feelings in a simple but most elegant way without letting go of the flavours of the right metaphor that is the beauty of a well-crafted haiku.

What remains is a question mark that we all need to address at the end of this temporary life for which we spend a lifetime to solve the mystery of what we get in the end. The ‘river’ is well placed in this haiku that reflects our thoughts, feelings, and constant learning and building up of a momentum in our lives. I think the flow of the river may be interpreted in two ways: 1) physical life 2) mental or spiritual life. Both goes on until we stop breathing and/or stop thinking about what is necessary for survival.

The empty bed both of the river and our life indicates nothingness and or annihilation where only a deep silence prevails. This haiku also depicts the process of evolution and revolution that both start and end in nothing. This is the ultimate meaning of life.

Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

At first glance, this poem might seem like a matter-of-fact statement, which a lot of fine haiku do. But then, we get an “aha” moment. The empty bed is both positive and negative. The empty bed could be a representation of the emptiness and harshness of the dry season, but it could also mean a place where new life can flourish without hindrance. Plus, the author could be referring not to a riverbed but to the bed in her house—thus making it a double entendre.

The empty bed is also a sight to behold. The way the river carved into the earth is now fully visible and we can witness what the river did to the soil and rock. It may be empty, but it’s full of memories etched into the earth.

I think the poet did right by not including punctuation, as it would have made the second line too long, in my opinion. The poet retains the traditional Japanese rhythm of haiku.

In terms of sound, the most striking letter is “r,” which gives the haiku added power and weight. The sound of “e” in the last line with “empty bed” has long syllables, which creates a sense of melancholy and starkness.

A fine haiku that gives many introspective associations to readers.

Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

blue-mountains-at-corbett-national-park-landscape-painting-mandar-marathe

– Painting by Mandar Marathe

Robin Anna Smith’s Alchemy

dusk gathers
with the alchemy
of ravens . . .
alone, in a clearing
my heart picked clean

Robin Anna Smith (USA)
UHTS Fleeting Words Tanka Contest 2019, First Place

There are a few short poems that inspire me deeply due to their brevity and brilliance. The beauty and the dimensions of our imagination are endless as one can grasp the attention of anyone through its majestic power and subtlety. This poem is one of them.

I loved the opening line of this wonderful tanka that pauses my thoughts and lets me feel the colours and the hues of dusk that tickle my slumberous senses to fully grasp the overall picture of that dusk.

The second and third lines, ‘with the alchemy/of ravens . . .’, is beautifully embedded in this dynamic poem and this may be the crux of the whole theme of this tanka. The word ‘alchemy’ depicts the magical power of the dark that purifies our thoughts and heart through contemplation and maybe through meditation. Ravens here depict the sign of intellect that pass through the trials of time before getting into proper shape. This is the experience of wholeness where a person walks alone in this journey as it varies from individual to individual. This highest level of personal experience also touches the spiritual boundaries where a person wants peace at heart, which is the ultimate goal of life. This only comes through the self-awareness that is reflecting very clearly in this tanka and brings one’s thoughts and feelings together to enjoy the subtle experience of wholeness.

Looking at the technicalities, the ellipsis placed after the word ‘ravens’ makes it significant to ponder in our day-to-day experiences before we finally get to the path of our ultimate destiny. By uniting the first and the last lines, one can understand the ultimate purpose of life.

Hifsa Ashraf (Pakistan)

The power behind this tanka lies in its imagery and the connection between its two parts. Also, the poem packs in a lot of substance within five lines, while allowing the reader to imagine and fill in blanks.

I like that Robin embraces the more metaphorical and free approach to tanka that many western poets don’t delve into. Some western adherents of tanka practice it as a longer haiku and don’t utilize its more abstract and imaginative side.

Let’s break this tanka down line by line. “dusk gathers” sets the time and scene. We can feel that this poem will contemplative.

“with the alchemy” is a surprising line and makes the reader excited to see what will happen next in the tanka.

“of ravens . . .” is highly symbolic. In Native American culture, the raven is sacred and in some tribes, was the creator of the world. This could be the connection to alchemy. Also, in many cultures, ravens are seen as mystical creatures that are either seers, magical beings, or harbingers of something to come. The ellipsis makes the clear sign of this part of the tanka ending and shows that this process of alchemy and dusk gathering is gradual.

“alone, in a clearing” is concise but delivers substantial symbolism with the clearing being like the poet’s sense of being alone. The comma puts more emphasis on the word “alone” and allows the reader to feel it more.

With “my heart picked clean”, Robin does not say, but as a reader, I can imagine the ravens picking the poet’s heart clean. Maybe this could be part of the alchemy mentioned earlier. Alchemy is about transformation, and the process of cleaning one’s heart can be said to be a type of metamorphosis.

In terms of the format, this tanka follows the traditional Japanese rhythm faithfully. Looking at its sound, the letter “c” is most prominent. It reminds me of the clicking of beaks. In this case, ravens’ beaks.

A tanka packed with imagery, symbolism, and feeling, it’s clear why this poem won first place in the UHTS Fleeting Words Tanka Contest.

Nicholas Klacsanzky (USA)

Raven painting– Painting by Claudelle Girard