Two years ago, I wrote some “hospital window haiku” while sitting in the infusion chair at the cancer center. I was in the middle of treatment for triple negative breast cancer (all good now, and that’s another story). During that time, I kept a paper journal for jotting down random notes and an online Caring Bridge journal to keep friends and family posted on our cancer adventure. I shared the following haiku online, notable only because my chemo brain was still functioning.
A child’s round balloon floating wishes—“Get Well Soon!” Daddy’s love, let go.
Cumulus clouds build snowlike mountains to the north. My heart travels south.
Haiku are good for cancer. I can still count to five and to seven.
Infusion chatter. Nurses’ laughter. Distant chimes beep…beep…toodleloo!
Celebrate all six acheiving halfway to twelve chocolate power
But the story doesn’t end there.
My friend Theresa asked Caring Bridge readers to celebrate the halfway mark by writing haiku for me. They did. Thirty-one in all. Here’s a sampling:
Afraid of what’s next Caterpillar sleeps now Emerges flight ~ALMT
Cancer’s not my friend She is poem, ocean, bloom Beautiful spirit ~KF
So over rated Strapped up, bouncy, cold alerts Ta ta you ta tas ~DM
Office mates turned friends Copious amounts of pie So thankful for you ~MA
Who needs hair, not her She has love, deep musings, grounded Andi’s light, shine on ~TC
Beauty created From the shards life gives us Writing haiku ~JR
That’s my job, she said As she moved into our lives Bestowing beauty. ~VH
Southwest starry nights Bring peace with each balmy breeze… Your cheeks feel their touch. ~CB
I am babbling brook You are still waters run deep We share love always ~LP
Focus on the CAN CAN conquer; CAN overcome CAN leave CER behind ~AT
Sometime during my twelve weeks of treatment, a neighbor of ours had a stroke and was hospitalized (for six months, as it turned out). His wife reported that he was in good spirits and asking for whiskey ice chips—four syllables. And the next week, another friend lost his elderly mother to illness. While managing his own grief, he was also caring for his bereaved father. He left a voicemail message of encouragement for me that was a bucketful of love in five syllables: Onward and upward.
So you see, you can make someone’s day in four or five or seventeen syllables. And the words don’t have to rhyme!
In Our Own Ink celebrates the many ways we use language to connect, to forge relationships, and to create intimacy through both our craft as writers and our skill as readers.
In that spirit, I encourage you to share yourself with someone in your life by writing a haiku, or haiku-like poem—just a short note in poetic form. Each haiku is a gift. Poetry sustains us through odd times, tough times, heat waves, and floods.
Here's to haiku, chocolate, and whiskey ice chips for all our uphill climbs. (But if it’s hotter outside than your normal body temperature, don’t climb outdoors!)
Do you haiku? Please share!
Andi - Thank you so much for this beautiful post! I'm sharing with a friend who just started chemo, stage 4.
morning sky growing
waking children to the day
join the feast of light.