Today on Carpe Diem our source of inspiration is a beautiful haiku by Matsuo Basho (1644-1694):
* * *
if taken into my hand
melting in the heat of tears
autumn frost
* * *
As it was common back then, this haiku had a preface:
”At the beginning of September I came back home. I was already long since my mother had died. The grass in front of mother’s room had withered in the frost. Everything had changed. The hair of my brother and sisters (Basho had a brother, an elder sister and three younger sisters) was white and they had wrinkles between their eyebrows. We could only say, ‘we are fortunate to be still alive’. Nothing more. My elder brother opened an amulet case and said reverently to me, ‘Look, at mother’s white hair. You have came back after such a long time. So this is like the Tamate Box of Urashima Taro. Your eyebrows have become white’. We wept for a while and then I composed this verse.”
I wrote my haiku, trying to stay close to the same mood and spirit:
* * *
dandelion fluff
escaping my palm
evening breeze
* * *
leaving
no trace on the cheek
droplets of rain
* * *
Carpe Diem Haiku Kai