2020 is a great year for poetry. (And for hindsight, too, apparently.)
How do I know? Because any year, any day, is a great time for poetry. And also, of course, because the Poetry Sisters have plans---plans to write all twelve months of this year, with the added twist of looking forward and looking back every so often as we create our poems.
January kicks it off, gently, with a haiku, on the theme of foresight, or the new year, or both.
I live on a tidal river, so I always feel aware of time, or at least, of the physical movement that accompanies time. So I know that every year turns into the next by the slow work of the tide. And that work can be seen---every day. So what then, is "new" about each new year? And what does it mean to see "forward" or to have "foresight" about that year?
I don't know the answer to those questions---or at least not enough to fill a haiku!
But I do admire the life that lives in and around the tides of the river. Perhaps foresight is being in the flow of the world, but not dragged under by it. Like oysters. Like egrets. Perhaps.
oyster shells steady
low tide mud; at high, egrets
guard the fey river.
My sisters greet the new year here:
Liz
Tanita
Kelly
Rebecca
Laura
Andi
Tricia
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Jone, at DeoWriter.
How do I know? Because any year, any day, is a great time for poetry. And also, of course, because the Poetry Sisters have plans---plans to write all twelve months of this year, with the added twist of looking forward and looking back every so often as we create our poems.
January kicks it off, gently, with a haiku, on the theme of foresight, or the new year, or both.
I live on a tidal river, so I always feel aware of time, or at least, of the physical movement that accompanies time. So I know that every year turns into the next by the slow work of the tide. And that work can be seen---every day. So what then, is "new" about each new year? And what does it mean to see "forward" or to have "foresight" about that year?
I don't know the answer to those questions---or at least not enough to fill a haiku!
But I do admire the life that lives in and around the tides of the river. Perhaps foresight is being in the flow of the world, but not dragged under by it. Like oysters. Like egrets. Perhaps.
oyster shells steady
low tide mud; at high, egrets
guard the fey river.
My sisters greet the new year here:
Liz
Tanita
Kelly
Rebecca
Laura
Andi
Tricia
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Jone, at DeoWriter.
I love your haiku, Sarah. But even more, I love "but not enough to fill a haiku." And yet, you do.
ReplyDeleteSomehow, a haiku seems so tiny AND so deep, and I get tangled up trying to fill it with worthy thoughts. True story: I wrote this "all wrong" yesterday....as a 7 5 7 syllable count....and then (fortunately) realized it before I posted....in the end, re-writing it two syllables shorter made it better, I think. Poetry can be forgiving, even haiku!
DeleteIn the flow of living, of one's community and responsibilities, "...but not dragged under by it." That sounds like the best of all world's.
ReplyDeleteOne can always dream
Deleteany haiku that includes the word, 'fey' is good for me. I love it. You've captured opposites in nature. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteBeing 'in the flow' and paying attention to our world feels good to me, Sara. You've shown your own good example.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing a bit of the flow of the tides.
ReplyDeleteAnd just like that you have provided two vivid images. Thanks for this interesting haiku.
ReplyDeleteYours resonates with the one Tricia wrote about the birds. New Year is such a human construct. Your tidal poem is so much more true...
ReplyDelete