“Haiku is not a shriek, a howl, a sigh, or a yawn; rather, it is the deep breath of life.”
— Santōka Taneda, Mountain Tasting: Haiku and Journals of Santoka Taneda
I have run mountain trails above my house for years. So many years now, it often hurts when I get up in the morning and begin moving about. But the benefits far outweigh my discomfort, and so I continue. Since adopting a rescue dog who loves to run, I am more sore than ever.
It is a meditative time. It is unfocused time. It is wandering in my mind time. It is a joyful time as I inhale the beautiful outdoors into all my senses.
I delight in Camino’s exuberance. Her bounding effortlessly up and down steep mountain terrain following her senses in utter abandon. Her delight in diving into the snow, flopping over on her back, and flipping her hips from side to side while throwing her front paws in opposite directions to massage her back. Or her ecstatic racing in circles or up the trail and then back again full tilt—me thinking she’s going to knock me over like a bowling pin. These are called “the zoomies.”
Trail running is often my most creative time. Big and small ideas come to me. Big ideas that when I’ve returned home and the endorphins have worn off, I too often shelf as impractical or too fear-inducing to attempt. > Sigh <
Sometimes, I become very aware of what is around me and the very unique moment I am inhabiting. Words come. Emotions arise. I take out my phone and begin writing.
Below are three haikus I wrote recently on two different runs. The last one, I wrote Christmas Eve morning. The other two, a day or so after. I appreciate haikus because I tend to be too wordy—hence this long introduction to three short poems. And because if a haiku is written decently enough and received rightly enough, it is pondered and evokes much more than its few words say. I don’t claim to be great at writing haikus but I do think these three are worth considering:
Soft white path winding.
Red river willows singing.
Heaven…inhaling…
_____
Great Firs releasing
White clouds from their outstretched arms
A gentle thunder
_____
Ascending Grandeur
Still. Snow. Mist. Deer bones and dog.
Baby Jesus born
