Category: Colorado

What is Haiku

snowy trail

“Haiku is a form of Zen.” — R. H. Blyth

Let’s not be wordy,
Precise, concise, shades of truth
Wisdom with few words

Ah — a verbal act
by defying convention
gets right to the point

A verbal act —
Frost, clinging to red roses —
Disappears like dew.

— Bashō no yōna, January 2026

Haiku draws on memory. It condenses and colors. It takes a scene and gives it meaning beyond its mere description. The last haiku was inspired by a red rose that still clung to a branch along Clear Creek in Golden, Colorado in December, 2025. I had just finished a three mile run up and back Clear Creek Trail. There was ice at the edge of the creek, but in the middle of the creek the water flowed smoothly and clear, like the name of the creek. The rose at the end of the run was like a medal, but one that would not last.

And, as my daughter say, you don’t always need to take a picture. Enjoy the moment. Remember it as a haiku and make it last.

Speaking of children. I was telling my son that one should write every day. Not only that but put it out for there where the world can take pot shots at it. Practice and feedback, it is how we get better. Contact, resistance, and repetition.

Practice and feedback
One gets better and better,
— a flint getting sharp.

Solutions

August 2025

On the Flatirons Trail near Boulder, Colorado where one has time to wonder.

“There are no solutions; there are only trade-offs.”

— Thomas Sowell, economic, social and political theorist

Variations on Thomas Sowell’s quote as it relates to political and economic policy making and their unpleasant unintended consequences. The solution depends upon the problem and the problems are many.

No true solutions —

Each choice gives and takes back,

Balance in all things

.

No one solution —

The Way flows like a river

Unseen ever changing

.

A true solution

Depends upon the problem

And our problems are too many

Take energy policy for example, oil and gas, coal, wind and solar, uranium, each presents its own challenges.

Like a new car with lane assist:

In all things, balance —

Straight, curving, ever changing

Sticking to the way.

Composed on the trail to the Flatirons outside Boulder, Colorado and far from the madding crowds, where one has time to think and ponder how one keeps on the path.

Golden

Summer— Mornings in Golden, Colorado, sitting outside, sipping coffee with nothing to do.

Mornings with nothing —

to do but sipping coffee

then waiting for noon

.

With nothing to do —

A breeze stirs my thoughts into

— haiku about nothing

.

Something

from nothing- haiku

Who knew?

Golden

Mornings in Golden, Colorado in June, 2925. Far from the madding crowds and the news.

Sitting on the porch

Musing while sipping coffee

Time seemingly stops

.

Cottonwood leaves shake

Like the silver tongue gossip

Whispering at dawn

.

The Gold is long gone

The wind the pine and the hills

Are all that remain

Golden, Colorado, June 2025

Far from the madding crowds, further still from the noise in the news that war is all that men know,

the hills repose beneath a pale blue sky while clouds move on,

Clear Creek flows on like a cool memory of times long forgotten,

and the cottonwoods whisper where the mines once churned out silver and gold.

.

Time drifts on,

not quite paradise, but close

To Heaven on Earth

Late in October

Basho, age 46-47,

The 4th year of Genroku, 1691,
Hikone, on Lake Biwa

For me, it is late in October. I am heading east, driving alone, rushing to get home for Halloween after a trip to Bend, Oregon with my family. Returning home to Wichita, a long five-day trip through eastern Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Colorado, and western Kansas.

For Matsuo Basho, in 1691 (the 4th year of Genroku), it was late in September (or possibly the first of October). Heading east, heading home, stopping at the Meishoji Temple in Hikone, on the eastern shore of Lake Biwa. There he spoke with the head priest, Kono Riyu, in the temple garden. During Kono’s lifetime, he was known as Four Plum Trees because there were four colorful plum trees in the temple garden.

Tears of adoration —
falling leaves,
in Autumn colors
.
尊がる涙や染めて散る紅葉
Tōto garu namida ya somete chiru kōyō

The spectacular show of color in Fall is brief. By late October in Bend most of the Aspen leaves have fallen and turned brown. By the time, I am high in the mountains, returning home, the Aspen trees are stripped bare of leaves.

falling leaves in Autumn colors,
now brown on the ground,
late in October
.
the leaves now fallen,
the Aspen trees,
stand bare and naked
— Bashō no yōna, October, 2024

Kono Riku 河野 李由 (Kōno Riyukari, 1662-1705), the 14th head priest of the Hikone Myosho-ji Temple. (source Japanese Wikipedia). In the summer of 1691, Kono Riyu visited Basho in Kyoto at Rakushisha, the Hut of the Fallen Persimmon, where Basho worked on the Saga Diary (嵯峨日記, Saga Nikki).

Bashō no yōna is the pen name of the author of this blog. It roughly translates as Basho Wanabe (want to be), or not quite.

On Translation

Tōto garu namida, is it — “precious tears, tears of respect or tears of adoration.” One imagines that Basho was impressed not only by the sight of the beautiful fall colors, but also quite happy in seeing a dear friend. Kono was some twenty years younger. He was reportedly a disciple of Basho’s. It is said that after Basho’s death in 1694, Kono was given one of Basho’s hats as a memento.