Footprints in the Windsm # 2318–The flower, the poet, and the sausage
Footprints in the Windsm # 2318
The flower, the poet, and the sausage: One way to compose a poem is the “natural way, in which a poem is born from within itself….” When Phil pointed out this Bashō quotation to me, I wondered how a poem could become from within itself. I played with this. Maybe the haiku is borne out of the meeting: the meeting of the flower with the poet. The poem is then a third thing. A poem is neither flower nor poet. I point my index fingers toward one another a nose-length away from my eyes. As they approach, a sausage appears and hovers between them. The flower and the poet come near, they meet, and the haiku hovers there. The haiku is the sausage. Phil reminded me not to watch haiku being made.
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