Poem: "sekki no kō"

This poem came out of the January 4, 2022 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from erulisse , freshbakedlady , and Anthony Barrette. It also fills the "Earth" square in my 12-23-21 card for the Story Sparks Bingo Fest. This poem has been sponsored by Anthony Barrette.


"sekki no kō"


in the days of old,
everything was orderly,
each season in turn

as unchangeable
in their stable progression
as a monk's prayer beads


risshun

beginning of spring
was perhaps always questioned
rather than trusted


harukaze kōri o toku

east wind melts the ice
and water begins to flow,
trickles here and there


uo kōri o izuru

fish emerge from ice --
early, but all right, birds are
already hungry


kōō kenkan su

bush warblers start
singing in the mountains as
they weave their wee nests


usui

rainwater comes in
its own time, late or early:
nothing to be done


kasumi hajimete tanabiku

mist starts to linger
for longer every morning,
wetting the bare earth


sōmoku mebae izuru

grass sprouts and trees bud --
everything is waking up,
looking for water


tsuchi no shō uruoi okoru

rain wets down the dirt:
sound of hurrying footsteps,
schoolgirls late to class


keichitsu

insects awaken,
crawling up the new green grass,
little legs clicking


momo hajimete saku

the first peach blossoms
open to catch the spring breeze,
spilling their perfume


sugomori mushito o hiraku

the hibernating
insects surface from damp earth
to nibble the sprouts


namushi chō to naru

caterpillars from
last fall become butterflies
heralding the spring


shunbun

spring equinox brings
the world into balance -- or
supposedly so


sakura hajimete saku

first cherry blossoms
take over from the peaches,
adorning orchards


kaminari sunawachi koe o hassu

distant thunder hints
at the mountain rain marching
toward the green valleys


suzume hajimete sukū

sparrows start to nest
filling the bushes with grass
to cradle their eggs


seimei

pure and clear, weather
invites everyone outside
to enjoy the day


niji hajimete arawaru

first rainbows appear
in the sky after a rain,
blooming like flowers


kōgan kaeru

wild geese fly north
like skeins of a spinner's yarn
knotted together


tsubame kitaru

swallows return to
their garden homes -- how did they
get behind the geese?


kokuu

grain rains make things sprout --
in the fields, long rows of green;
at home, all these weeds!


shimo yamite nae izuru

after the last frost,
the rice seedlings grow in fields
streaking brown with green


ashi hajimete shōzu

first reeds are sprouting
beside the streams and rivers,
whispering like girls


botan hana saku

peonies bloom late,
after almost everyone
stopped looking for them


rikka

the weather warms with
the beginning of summer --
then turns cold again


mimizu izuru

worms surface in rain,
crawling along the walkways
to die in the sun


kawazu hajimete naku

the frogs start singing
now that the worms have come out,
chirping their love songs


takenoko shōzu

the bamboo shoots sprout
crowding close in the forests
racing toward the sky


shōman

the wagons fill up
with the lesser ripening;
other crops yet wait


mugi no toki itaru

the wheat ripens and
is harvested by farmers
watching the weather


benibana sakau

the safflowers bloom,
yellow heads in a green field
promising rich seeds


kaiko okite kuwa o hamu

silkworms start feasting
on mulberry leaves -- later,
sumptuous fabric


bōshu

the grain beards and seeds
nod in the evening breezes
slowly ripening


ume no mi kibamu

the plums turn yellow,
standing out against the leaves --
we make sweet preserves


kusaretaru kusa hotaru to naru

rotten grass becomes
fireflies dancing at dusk
like tiny lanterns


kamakiri shōzu

praying mantises
hatch from their wicker cases,
scurrying about


geshi

the summer solstice
raises the sun to its height
and shortens shadows


hange shōzu

the crow-dipper sprouts
earlier and earlier
every year, it seems


ayame hana saku

the irises bloom
beside the water garden:
purple, yellow, white


natsukarekusa karuru

the self-heal withers
much later than usual,
leaving more to pick


shōsho

now the lesser heat
drapes itself over the land --
lady on a couch


hasu hajimete hiraku

rising from the mud,
the first lotus blossoms wave
above still water


taka sunawachi waza o narau

in their nests of sticks
the fledgling hawks flap their wings,
learning how to fly


atsukaze itaru

warm summer winds blow,
stirring the sweet music from
chimes of shells and glass


taisho

now the greater heat
crushes the whole land beneath
its big sweaty feet


kiri hajimete hana o musubu

paulownia trees
spreading around the garden
are going to seed


taiu tokidoki furu

great rains sometimes fall
not quite in proper season ...
no one dares say so


tsuchi uruōte mushi atsushi

so much rain has come:
earth is damp, air is humid,
everything mildews


risshū

rain, rain, and more rain
the beginning of autumn
is always soggy


fukaki kiri matō

a thick fog descends --
at every intersection,
a wreck of some sort


higurashi naku

evening cicadas
sing loudly as the sun sets
and then fall silent


suzukaze itaru

at last, cool winds blow,
bringing relief from the heat,
late but still welcome


shosho

the summer's last breath
is a shadow of itself:
manageable heat


tenchi hajimete samushi

heat starts to die down,
a little more day by day,
sinking into fall


wata no hana shibe hiraku

cotton flowers bloom,
opening their yellow cups,
precursors of puffs


kokumono sunawachi minoru

the rice ripens late
but at least it's ripening:
no one goes hungry


hakuro

by morning it's clear:
the season of the white dew
has come upon us


kusa no tsuyu shiroshi

over the whole yard,
dew glistens white on the grass,
chilly underfoot


tsubame saru

already swallows
are getting ready to leave,
eager to be gone


sekirei naku

wagtails sing softly,
lingering even after
the swallows have left


shūbun

autumn equinox
teases about balance but
never delivers


kaminari sunawachi koe o osamu

the thunder ceases,
the clouds begin to dry out,
and the sky clears up


mizu hajimete karuru

farmers drain the fields --
brown mud to the horizon
and children playing


mushi kakurete to o fusagu

it's getting colder --
insects hole up underground;
the air falls silent


kanro

cold dew on the grass,
every hem clammy and wet
within a few steps


kirigirisu to ni ari

crickets chirp around
the door, a late serenade
before the cold comes


kiku no hana hiraku

chrysanthemums bloom
in bursts of orange and bronze
lining the walkways


kōgan kitaru

wild geese return
to their homes, settling in
to wait for winter


sōkō

frost falls in the night,
outlining each leaf and blade
of grass with silver


shimo hajimete furu

as the first frost falls,
all the flowers bow their heads
to touch the white ground


momiji tsuta kibamu

in the cooling days,
maple leaves and ivy turn
yellow as the sun


kosame tokidoki furu

light rains sometimes fall --
it's not quite yet the season
for the first snowfall


rittō

the beginning of
winter wraps the land in shawls
of silver and white


chi hajimete kōru

the land starts to freeze --
earth hardening underfoot
clatters beneath shoes


kinsenka saku

the daffodils bloom
at the wrong time, but they can
tolerate some snow


tsubaki hajimete hiraku

camellias bloom
too late in the season and
soon wilt under ice


shōsetsu

now the lesser snow
covers the ground, but dry grass
peeks through the low drifts


kitakaze konoha o harau

the north wind snatches
the leaves from the trees and laughs
as it runs away


tachibana hajimete kibamu

the citrus tree leaves
are starting to turn yellow
against the white snow


niji kakurete miezu

rainbows are hiding,
glimpsed only at the edges
of the thick gray clouds


taisetsu

the greater snow comes
and the leaves of the dry grass
no longer show through


sake no uo muragaru

the salmon gather
and swim upstream, surging through
the cooling rivers


kuma ana ni komoru

tired of waiting
the bears start hibernating
in their cozy dens


sora samuku fuyu to naru

cold sets in for real,
and the winter begins with
shivers and chills


tōji

winter solstice comes,
turning dark toward light again
when we need it most


wuki watarite mugi nobiru

wheat sprouts under snow
spears of green just poking through
melting drifts of white


natsukarekusa shōzu

self-heal sprouts later
but it's already getting
off to a good start


sawashika no tsuno otsuru

deer shed their antlers
to be gathered by children
or nibbled by mice


shōkan

as the lesser cold
starts to weaken winter's grip,
ice begins to crack


shimizu atataka o fukumu

springs thaw, water runs
laughing between lines of ice
steaming in cold air


kiji hajimete naku

pheasants start to call
already impatient for
the spring to arrive


seri sunawachi sakau

parsley flourishes
in the herb garden, its leaves
like tiny furled trees


daikan

now the greater cold
snatches away the hope of
an early springtime


kiwamizu kōri tsumeru

ice thickens on streams
that were running almost free ...
not enough to skate


fuki no hana saku

butterburs begin
to bud under icicles,
the stubborn old things


niwatori hajimete toya ni tsuku

hens start laying eggs,
drawn outside by the sunlight
and green specks of weeds


now climate change has
made everything crazy as
a string stretched too tight

the weather has snapped:
anything can happen at
any time, and does

* * *

Notes:

Read about the haiku form. Learn to write haiku. This form can also be used to create verses in a longer poem.

The microseasons are listed here. The title can be translated as "subdivisions of the seasons" or "microseasons." Note that while the sekki (major divisions) are in order, the kō (subdivisions) are scrambled. Climate change is making things happen out of sequence, which causes problems.

A string snapping is a Japanese symbol of craziness.