An Exchange of Haiku

When I first met Giselle, she suggested I come by for a free Japanese tea ceremony lesson to see if I liked it. I took her up on that offer. After many years of lessons at her house, I added a tea hut (below) to my yard. We kept in touch after she moved to France.

In addition to teaching the traditional Japanese art of tea ceremony, Giselle makes beautiful tea bowls and is a published poet. I was honored when she suggested we work together on a sequence sharing haiku impressions on the subject of MADO (‘window’ in Japanese), as winter turned to spring this Tiger year. MADO is the poetic word given by Japan’s Emperor for 2022.

M A D O  
Kathleen Fink, Arlington, Massachusetts, US &  
Giselle Maya, St. Martin de Castillon, France

gazing out the window
all is stillness in the garden
what does my cat see

way up there 
a flock of birds migrate
across my open window

no one looking in
snow on the tea hut window
no one looking out

fox on his way 
to a morning tea gathering
Sen Sotan invited*

reading by the window
pattering snow whispers

all morning long

sun-warmed nap
Shiki-cat watching goldfinches
mountain’s spring melt

brand new leaves 
capturing raindrops 
one by one

beginning of May
swallows have returned
time to choose a summer tea bowl  

walking this dewy path
a window flashes gold
as dusk descends  

perched
in the olive tree
Tora-cat moon gazing  

* Sen Sotan is the grandson of Sen no Rikyu, the great tea master. Sen Sotan was deeply interested in the Chado tradition and many tea people welcomed him to attend their chakai – sometimes he appeared in the form of a fox.   

Looking Through Windows

Gazing out the window

All is stillness in the garden

What does my cat see?

When my Japanese tea ceremony teacher, Giselle Maya, told me that the poetic word for 2022 is “window,” I thought it might be time to revisit “Dream Window” by Peter Grilli. He had metaphorical reasons to choose that title for his poetic film about Japanese gardens. But it is also true that gardens are often viewed through actual windows – Such sight lines are an important consideration in garden design. What do you see through the windows where you live?

Whether another building, a field, undisturbed nature, an empty lot, busy sidewalk or a garden, looking through windows can bring out the poetry of this world. A limited view into space-time somehow makes the ever-changing wholeness of everything “out there” easier to relate to.

Neighborly Haiku

My town’s art association was holding a haiku contest. The haiku should refer to something the writer experienced in Arlington Heights, Massachusetts.

My feelings for this area where I live had deepened during the pandemic. I was more appreciative of kind neighbors and the caring friendliness of those working in local businesses. I spent more time in nearby parks enjoyed by children, families and dogs both on and off-leash.

As I walked along Massachusetts Avenue near its intersection with Park Avenue looking for haiku from the contest, I came across several in the process of being painted. I said to one of the painters, “Maybe this has started something. Maybe there will be more poetry displayed in Arlington Heights.” The woman doing the painting agreed that should happen.

I noticed that some of the signs shop owners had put up in their windows felt a bit like poems. Looking back along the street, I knew it had happened again. I felt a new appreciation for this particular corner of the world.

Moments in words and images

Sometimes I encounter moments that feel like poems. There is a clarity to them that has me stopping to notice.

They can be small and quiet, easily missed. Nonetheless, every once in a while, such a moment can leave me breathless.

The first two spoke volumes without words but others inspired me to write haiku.

Heads up, dog coming

Grazing geese splashdown

Safe on Hills Pond

Taped to the arm of

A Menotomy Rock’s bench,

Mother’s Day balloon

Warm fall evening

Water tower lantern lit

People drawn like flies

More images of this water tower event, and information about it may be found here.

The Abalone Are Dwindling

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The abalone are dwindling
In their rocky abodes
Along our coasts

It matters not that the
Maori and others
Understood their sacredness

With only dim sight
They sense their limitless world
Of kelp and water

Once they thrived
Breathing and mating through
Holes in their shells

Clamped down and
Holding tight was enough
As the tides found them

Now I grieve for the
Extraordinary beauty
They created never seeing it

The Goose Feather Sequence

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Spiraling down from
This fall sunset sky of geese
A lone tail feather

Dreaming here in my garden,
I sit watching a feather spin.
Warm light bathes the soft sweet moss
in welcome to this winsome sprite.
Bounding fast lest it escape her,
the clumsy cat misses it!

Held in her mouth like
A dagger, or a rose,
The goose feather trophy
Must smell strongly
Of potential prey
To my hungry cat –
She wants her dinner.

No need for any plucking
With feathers flying about,
Her poultry comes in cans
Extracted by turning
A gear and applying
A blade to cut the
Lid round ‘till it snaps.

I’ve been told, geese are the
Perfect prey for humans, when
That dire time comes with all
The secret factories abandoned
And we must revert to honesty
About the brutal sacrifice
Of those we prefer as food.