Give me your whispers Like leaves, fallen and dying Songs for my journey *** ...And there you have it, an eggnog-induced haiku. I’m out of practice and that’s the best I can come up with on short notice. Oh well…at least the haiku-spark is still there. I studied Japanese for two years at Chicago’s Columbia College, and a part of that linguistic study included exposure (purely coincidental) to the poetry form known commonly as haiku. The most common misconception is that haiku generally contains 17 syllables; this isn’t actually the case. Haiku, in its native form exists within a aesthetic continuum separate from the European poetic traditions that we’re familiar with. Even when you’re hearing haiku (it’s best heard rather than read) in native Japanese, the number of syllables varies from time to time, and emphasis is, instead, placed on phonological distinctions: sounds. I’ve often heard it said that in a perfect haiku, the same sound is never repeated…this pushes the envelope in terms of creativity, since this implies that no sound (or syllable) in haiku can be repeated. Unless you’re lazy. To make things worse, it all has to come off of the top of your head, usually while walking down the street, cleaning out the kitty litter box, or throwing slugs from your garden into your neighbor’s—if your neighbor happens to be an enemy who becomes particularly vile while wearing felt socks in the winter months named after the feeding habits of bovine animals…or something like that. I thought of this as I looked through files and sipped a mug of store-bought eggnog: the melted-ice cream stuff with no alcohol in it. There are those who won’t touch the store-bought stuff, or those who think it’s too sweet, too thin, or quite simply (and accurately) not real. And it’s odd: that’s precisely why I like it so much. It doesn’t taste like anything else, and I can enjoy it only during a short part of the year: usually the least pleasant part, in terms of weather. In short, it’s like a haiku I can drink. And so, with eggnog in a mug, and a leaf on my monitor screen, I started thinking of things to say: of things either I, or characters in upcoming stories felt. The poem up at the top of this page is what oozed out of my mind-pores. In a sense, it’s a “perfect” haiku, as in it refers to a season (obliquely,) a physical image, AND an emotional punctuation. As to whether or not it’s a perfect haiku is probably up to a haiku no-sensei to determine, and I’m not exactly a “master of haiku.” But there you have it, eggnog-induced poetry. About a leaf. About something a haiku poet would say to the autumn in regard to fallen leaves. As for the picture, it’s self explanatory: it’s a fallen leaf. I took the picture last week and thought nothing of it. I just thought it was pretty. And now, after consuming eggnog, I thought something else…and so, there you have it. As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a great week.