Big Heat Haiku, Wilga 2012

Haiku, Summer Ango 2012
Wilga, Poland

Steam from tar roofs
After summer rain
Smell of hotcakes

After sun shower
Two sparrows
Making love in the trees

Somewhere between
Brilliant sun, heavy rain
Muddy path to zendo

Sudden deluge!
Buddhas each bead
Smack against pavement

In miraculous beads
Water crashes to stone
Wearing it away

The sun has conquered
The forest again
Birch bark so white!

The dog’s whimper
A clothesline full of shirts
Nobody moves

Strident bird calls
Morning after storm
Time to start over!

Playpen, choir, home—
Oh the tall birch tree
In the quiet grove

Monks bowing to each other
On equal terms—
This is love

The master passes
By the aid of an escort
Behind white blinds

Going their own directions
The weaker hand
Carries the stronger

After Roshi’s talk
The wild dove’s song
Not so far away

Little things
By their addition
Make big things

Who knew!
Wood so much water
Thousand rounds kin hin

White dog in a cage
His limitless cry
The sound of thunder

Summer breeze
Shakes loose the dead leaves
Suddenly, fireworks!

First it showers
Then it pours
Monks wait with empty bowls

Summer cottages
Deep in slumber
Dreaming the afternoon

Scattered like pine cones
After the rain
One person rakes the leaves

Stretching their arched backs
How do the pines know
They’ve reached their height?

A lady bug
Climbs the house beam
Without knowing why

Work finished
Even the dog silent
Summer wind in leaves

At their very tips
The pines sway
A storm is coming

Dawn no longer
A little sapling
In the sunlight

Waiting for my bunkmate
Only 9 days
Like a brother

When I die, when I die—
Oh, when I die!
I want it to be like this

What are you snooping for?
Little bee
I’ve nothing to hide

Outlasting the others
The wild dove’s chant
Never varies

The last birds have sung
Two women argue
Dusk returns

The caged dog
Night after night
What does he dream?

In the morning he cries
By evening he wails
Oh the caged dog!

Leaving the last notes for me
The pigeon’s mantra
High in the skies

Jurek’s ticklish laughter
Even when he’s furious
Roll him down a hill!

Big heat!
Boy on a tricycle
Grinding up the gravel

In a rainstorm
By a single thread
The spider hangs on!

Passing along the way
She hands me blueberries
So wild! So sweet!

Alternating my steps
The dog’s fierce bark
His whimpering cry

Maślanka ya!
Ah, maślanka ya!
Maślanka ya!

Some leaves hit by the rain
Others just listen
Legs up on veranda

Listening to the rain
Young and old trees alike
Encore! Encore!

A storm begins
They say it bears significance
But it’s passing

Ringing the morning bell
Before the sun
His laughter never far behind

Swaying in unison
The new born trees
Feeling the wind

First day out his pen
The dog in tall grass
Has already forgotten

Clearing out his bunk
The pilgrim looks back
Only a mosquito

Oh gołębie, gołąb—
Play your wooden flute
Your Indian drum!

Almost 3 weeks
The caged dog no longer cries
Summer wind

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