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Haiku is the shortest form of poetry known in world literature, but its three little lines of 5-7-5 syllables are capable of expressing deep feeling and sudden flashes of intuition.  There is no symbolism in haiku.  It catches life as it flows.  There is no egotism either; haiku is practically authorless.  But in its preoccupation with simple, seemingly trivial stuff of everyday life – a falling leaf, snow, a fly – haiku shows us how to see the life of things and gain a glimpse of enlightenment.  Haiku is not Zen, but Zen is haiku.  It is, in the words of R.H. Blyth, “the final flower of all Eastern culture”

Haiku was elevated to its present form by the great poet Basho.  Other poets include Buson, Issa, Ryokan and Shiki.  Like all Japanese arts that are bound up with the spirit of Zen, haiku evokes sabi, solitude, aloneness or detachment, and wabi, the poignant spirit of poverty and austerity.  Always, a season is mentioned – with plum blossoms for spring or bare branches for fall.  And, like all Zen arts, haiku knows when enough has been said…


                  The butterfly
                         Rests upon the temple bell,
                                    Asleep.

                                            Buson