
Hi All!
Happy Springtime!
Last week was Hanamatsuri, Easter is this Sunday (tomorrow!), and my friend in Japan sent me some amazing pictures of this year’s cherry blossoms (which I can’t post, because she is in them, too).
The Japanese word for spring is “haru,” and in Japan, people will sometimes cheer each other on through difficult times by saying, “Haru ni naru, yo!” or “Spring is coming!” And, when something good happens after a long wait, “Haru ga kita!” or “Spring has come!”
During much of this pandemic, I’ve not been out and about as much I would like, and during my school's spring break, I’ve spent most of my time indoors working on my next manuscript.
And yet, as the seasons change, even in my apartment, I am super grateful. Along with Hanamatsuri, I am enjoying my friends celebrating Easter, my friends observing Passover, my friends observing Ramadan, even my students celebrating Spring Break…somewhere (just don’t overdo, okay?)
This year, the season feels especially meaningful. For the past few years, I think I’ve said this every spring, but each time I honestly meant it, as I do now.
During this time, there is so much with the planet to worry about—conventional war, nuclear war, biochemical war, disease, climate change, a staggering loss of biodiversity.
I think that watching the seasons change, as they always will (until we do something to the tilt of the earth), gives one, if not a sense of peace, at least a sense of continuity, and maybe a bit of respite.
When we are worried about little day-to-day things, up at night wondering how we’ll make our monthly rent, and terrified about what will happen to our children in the years to come, seasons are in that chronological sweet spot—long enough for each coming to seem significant, yet short enough that a single life can hold memory after memory of them.
Seasons give us so much wisdom that to be a “seasoned veteran” is to know the inner game, what to signs to look for, how to handle success and work through slumps.
Even in the bounty of summer we learn to prepare for winter. Even in the coldest winter, we remember the coming of spring.
And, spring is here, isn’t it?
“Haru ga kita!”
So, this week, instead of a regular column, I am presenting a very classic spring activity. (Super classic. Like Heian-era Japan classic.)
A poetry writing exercise!
It’s not homework, there’s nothing to turn in—just something for you to try—and if you like it, maybe share your experiences?
We’re going to use haiku that follows the 5-7-5 rule--that is, 5 syllables in the first line, seven syllables in the second, and five in the third. (Haiku does not always have to follow to this rule, but it works well here.)
So, here’s how this works. I wrote three sample haiku. (Not the greatest haiku, but work with me, k?) Here they are:
-
This morning I woke
When the sun peeked through my drapes
And disturbed my dreams.
-
Outside my window
A lone tree is in blossom
Under our shared sky.
-
I called my mother
To see how she was doing
We talked for hours.
-
If I counted right, each of these haiku follows the 5-7-5 rule. Which means, if I take the first line from the first haiku, the second line from the second, and the third from the third—I should still get a haiku.
So, using the three haiku I wrote:
-
This morning I woke
When the sun peeked through my drapes
And disturbed my dreams.
-
Outside my window
A lone tree is in blossom
Under our shared sky.
-
I called my mother
To see how she was doing
We talked for hours.
-
And now, I can combine the lines and get:
This morning I woke
A lone tree is in blossom
We talked for hours.
-
I came up with this linked haiku form when I was a student, and I enjoy it to this day.
I’m sure others have thought of it, too—it’s a pretty simple form, and it reminds me of pantoums, villanelles, and sestinas, which also draw heavily from repeating lines in different contexts.
What I especially love about linked haiku is that it’s a simple form to remember and execute. Everyone has probably written a haiku and I am sure many have written at least three of them.
And yet—that little “aha!” I get when I combine the lines is always magical.
It’s my poem, my words, undeniably my thoughts—and yet, combined in a way that I would not consciously do.
So, for this week, I invite you to write three haiku and link them. See what you get! It might not work exactly all the time—but it’s almost always something interesting.
🌸Bonus points if you make the haiku about spring!🌸
If you would like, post what you get in the comments below or on my Facebook page—I was thinking I might read some of them in a future video?
One thing to keep in mind, though—please remember that this poetry is meant to be shared as freely as the spring, so please don’t send any work you might want to keep for yourself.
However, even if you don’t want to post your work, I’d love to hear how it works out for you!

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Next Week:“To Infinity and Beyond!” “May the Force be with You” (and Other Tips for Poets) Part 1 of 2
Cover: twomeows/collection: Moment /Getty Images/