Twenty-one is a magic number. It wins at blackjack, lets you legally purchase alcohol in most of the United States, and it is the precise number of haiku one produces if they write one every day for three weeks in a row.
Magic also describes the feeling I get when someone tells me that my haiku postcard landed in their life at a critical moment, and made them feel better or special or -- and this is what matters -- less alone in this world.
Because that makes me feel all those things, too. The illusion of separateness lifts, and I recognize how I am part of an unbroken whole called humanity, and how humanity is part of a yet larger unbroken whole that includes all living creatures living, dead, and still to come.
This is a roundabout way of thanking all the haiku postcard recipients who have responded with emails and photos and even video. Thanks for lifting the veil of illusion. Each time, the veil stays lifted a little bit longer.
Here are this week’s haiku, and where they were headed.
haiku 20220815 > Nevada City, CA USA
hallway buddha fine dust on your belly -- this too, this too
haiku 20220816 > San Francisco, CA USA
o this waking world! the apple tree spider spins another thread
haiku 20220817 > Oakland, CA USA
where does it come from? where does it go? changing the dog's water
haiku 20220818 > Oakland, CA USA
morning trees dripping with fog the sound of not-rain
haiku 20220819 > Cheltenham, United Kingdom
crow in the crosswalk take your time, my friend take your time
haiku 20220820 > Extrema, MG Brazil
old journal entries words of a stranger written in my hand
haiku 20220821 > San Miguel de Allende, Mexico
blue sky afternoon the drone of a small plane
Well, there you have it. Or them. There you have them.
I’d love to stay and chat, but I got me a fever and daily haiku is the cure! See you next week.
What’s that? You want a haiku postcard? Drop me a line.