Chiyo-ni

Anybody who’s ever lived around morning glories knows that they often turn up in unexpected places — curled around a shovel or a ladder, growing around a drainpipe, or climbing up a fence post, to name a few. The haiku, below, reflects that trait*:

morning glories 

wrapped around the well bucket —

borrowing water

According to D.T. Suzuki, this haiku by Fukudo Chiyo-ni (1703-1755) conveys the experience of suchness, in which the speaker is “perfectly at one with reality” — so much so that she went to a neighbor to borrow water rather than disturb the scene she described. Chiyo-ni began writing haiku at the age of seven and by seventeen was well known throughout Japan as a follower of Basho’s style. Below is one of many haiku she wrote expressing evanescence*:

clear water

cool to the touch —

fireflies vanishing

Late in life, she became a nun in the Pure Land Buddhist tradition, while continuing to write haiku and renga. Here are a few more examples of her work*:

pampas grass,

made for this life

in the wind

from the heart of this one vine,

countless gourds

flickering

between maple leaves —

twilight

   *trans. jg 

Gratitude

As 2021 draws to a close, I’m reminded of Mary Oliver’s poem, “Gratitude,” from the collection, Thirst. It contains eight questions, any one of which might serve as a prompt for a poem:

– “What did you notice?”

– “What did you hear?”

– “When did you admire?”

– “What astonished you?”

– “What would you like to see again?”

– “What was most tender?”

– “What was most wonderful?”

– “What did you think was happening?”

For me, the question,“What was most tender?”, invites reflection. The tender moments we experience in life are often the ones that are imbued with love — the love of close relationships, the love for pets, for wildlife, or the beauties of nature. Which questions resonate with you? What are you most grateful for?