Today is Open Link Night at dVerse, meaning, we can submit ONE poem of our choice of subject and form. I am also linking this to Real Toads Thursday Meme “The one where you grab a nearby book and flip to a specific page to find a quote that represents your love life. You have the choice of going to either page 13 and picking the 7th sentence or page 7 and picking out the 13th sentence to use as your inspiration for your poem. For bonus points, make it a love poem. As always, this should be a new poem created just for this prompt. ” So I went to the 13th page, seventh line of Basho’s The Narrow Road to the Deep North”. It is in this book the haibun is created. I am writing a haibun. and of course, the haibun must be factual and actually have happened to you, followed by a classic haiku. this is my feeble attempt to write the end of the love story in Japanese poetic form.
Rice Planting
“…a song for planting rice”
The day after you left, it rained. There would be no beach trips this September Labor Day holiday. My mind and my heart were with you in Japan. I knew by now you would be at your home in Hakone. I began to cry, at last. the house still smelled of you – of sea air and sandalwood and oddly, soy sauce. Your skin had that liquid salty taste. I know for you I tasted you enough times! But here I sit – alone. I ate some steamed rice and drank some lemonade for lunch. It took me back years ago to my first trip to Japan, a few years before I met you here in America. I remembered the cold day I joined village women in helping to plant rice. The tour guide had asked them if I could. Some conversation finally to – “sure. Let the white woman try to keep up. She’ll be gone in an hour”. Somewhat roughly translated. But I kept up with them standing in the cold water, delicately planting the rice plants as I had been shown by the lead woman. I stayed all day – using the stick to make a hole and then putting the plant down into the hole and pulling mud around it to anchor it. It was cold, backbreaking, and mind numbing; I was determined to follow the road of Basho and this was one of the stops along the way – Sharakawa. Where Basho was led to write:
“hands planting seedlings
were hands once rubbing patterns
with ferns long ago”
The end of the day I went back to my hotel room and showered. Looking at the rain outside today made me cold – knowing you were gone froze my heart.
cold rain falling hard
cherry trees will soon lose their
leaves – rice is planted

Shiro Kasamatsu – 1789
Aug 24, 2017 @ 15:28:26
A beautiful haibun Toni and I love how Basho’s haiku inspired you to plant the rice with these women all day xxx
Aug 24, 2017 @ 15:35:08
It was hard! Cold and wet….but I enjoyed every minute of it.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 15:40:12
:o) xxx
Aug 24, 2017 @ 15:32:25
What a wonderful and classic haibun… love that you did this, and did so much more than trying. Maybe it can relate to the old idea of walking in someone else’s shoes.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 15:34:41
Maybe it can. It certainly changed the way I looked at rice from then on out.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 15:50:06
When I read of your lost love I almost feel like crying myself because I know you hold a space in your heart for him still. So beautifully told, Toni, and I love that you kept up with those women all day long planting that rice!
Aug 24, 2017 @ 15:53:53
It was hard but after the 5th hour, I had my pride to defend, LOL/ And to be honest, he still holds a place for me. Such is life.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 16:11:24
I know…I feel it. xo
Aug 24, 2017 @ 15:53:14
This is so incredibly touching, Toni!
Aug 24, 2017 @ 16:11:25
Thank you Sanaa.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 15:59:18
I have found that working with farmers, lumberjacks, & fishermen has expanded my horizons, spread wide empathy, I worked a lot in restaurants when younger; knowing what is going on in the kitchen colors all of my restaurant experiences. Your haibun & personal memories is superb; very satisfying.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 16:10:50
Thank you Glenn. I know your put a lot into your poetry. I can watch violence in Movies because I know – it is special fx – the blood is fake. But when I read it, it gets inside my head and stays there for awhile. Sorry I couldn’t do more than skim your entry for today. It is something about which I have a high degree of sensitivity.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 16:20:34
So wistful and beautifully descriptive. The sadness in both persistence and resignation was well done.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 16:30:44
Thank you
Aug 24, 2017 @ 16:39:32
Some people and places make a home in our hearts and never leave. This was so tenderly beautiful.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 16:44:16
Thank you so much.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 19:15:07
The sadness of this grabs me hard. But it is tender, beautiful this song to another.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 20:34:04
Peace
Aug 24, 2017 @ 20:38:47
It is indeed back breaking work. I admire your determination to follow Basho’s journey ~ Love the exquisite personal share Toni ~
Aug 24, 2017 @ 21:23:01
I may be an Iowa farm partner but not sure I would stand in cold water all day to plant rice! Good for you, Toni. Thanks for sharing your tough (and tender) memories.
Aug 24, 2017 @ 21:56:17
LOL…it became a matter of national pride….
Aug 25, 2017 @ 03:41:04
I love this, Toni. You always give so much of yourself in haibun and this one is a beauty. The haiku conveys the emotion so well.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 05:25:50
The smell of rice paddies after the rain may be one of my favourite smells in the world, but I never thought of the back-breaking work which goes into planting it. What a yearning in this haibun, Toni…
Aug 25, 2017 @ 17:12:49
Thank you so much. It is back breaking and these women have been doing it by this method for centuries…
Aug 25, 2017 @ 06:09:15
This is so beautiful as your haibun transported the reader into the rice paddy with you and emphasised your love for both man and country with such immense feeling.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 11:07:45
Thank you so very much.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 07:19:29
This is stunning, Toni. You paint such vivid images with the haibun–and such feelings of longing, melancholy, and determination, too. The final haiku makes me think of Japanese prints (if that makes sense).
Aug 25, 2017 @ 11:06:31
It makes perfect sense and was just what I intended. Thank you for picking up on that!
Aug 26, 2017 @ 06:09:46
Oh, I’m glad! We have three Japanese prints that were wedding presents, and they are what I thought of.
Aug 26, 2017 @ 18:01:41
Serendipity. All we got for our wedding were things like sheets and blenders and stuff. My mother however did make a gorgeous king sized wedding ring quilt for us in shades of rose, pink, lavender, and baby blue. but then I already had Japanese prints I had bought through the years. So I guess all his family could think of were blenders….
Aug 26, 2017 @ 19:07:30
Hahaha. The quilt sounds lovely though. My husband’s grandmother made us some beautiful quilts, too–a long time ago!
Aug 26, 2017 @ 19:37:49
Our anniversary was #17 this Aqugust. Both of us were late bloomers – we married for the first time when I was 49 and he was 39. Babies!
Aug 26, 2017 @ 20:48:49
🙂
Aug 26, 2017 @ 21:50:16
Lordy, if they saw the print that hangs in our bedroom, my husband’s family would kill themselves blushing. My family saw it and said, wow, now that is one position!
Sent from Mail for Windows 10
Aug 27, 2017 @ 09:23:46
Hahahaha. I almost spit out my coffee laughing. 🙂
Aug 27, 2017 @ 15:49:23
🙂
Aug 25, 2017 @ 07:48:34
Lovely weave — the warp, memory of your love just gone; the woof, memory of a day in the past. Well done!
Aug 25, 2017 @ 11:05:24
Thank you!
Aug 25, 2017 @ 11:40:21
The imagery is so tender and delicate. An exquisite haibun.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 14:15:14
🙂
Aug 25, 2017 @ 11:56:40
Such a beautiful sad poem of remembrance. I especially like the planting of rice, following Basho’s path.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 14:13:45
Thank you Sherry. A few years later, my lover and I also followed the path of Basho but it was at the time of year when rice was being harvested. He didn’t want to get involved with cutting and lifting the heavy stalks so… but if I had been alone, I would have.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 13:36:14
Planting rice reminds me of planting trees. The first few days are the worst and then it becomes relatively easy.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 14:11:27
Lol…actually, planting rice doesn’t become easier esp. As the weather continues to get colder and you continue to stand in cold dirty water!
Aug 25, 2017 @ 13:59:33
It is poignant and hopeful at the same time. 💛
Aug 25, 2017 @ 14:15:51
Thank you.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 15:21:28
How beautiful and sad…such an evocative haiku as well. Really enjoyed this, thank you.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 16:56:57
Thank you!
Aug 25, 2017 @ 16:19:08
So much hope and strength growing in these lines! Simply beautiful!!
Aug 25, 2017 @ 16:57:09
Thank you!
Aug 25, 2017 @ 19:29:59
It was cold, back breaking,
and mind numbing;
You’ve said it most rightly, Toni! To think for all the efforts they were given pittance just to survive. It was good to experience it oneself (to realize what the deprived had to do)
Hank
Aug 25, 2017 @ 21:48:41
And what amazes me is they do not consider themselves deprived. they do the work and get paid a medium sum which with they can purchase things to help improve or feed the family. It amazes how they made so much do with so little.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 20:49:48
An experience few of us encounter, so well written. I feel the melancholy, the new traditions now embedded in you with scents and tastes…very touching, Toni.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 21:49:38
Thank you Kathy.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 21:21:47
How deeply layered this is! And I love it for that.
Aug 25, 2017 @ 21:56:23
Thank you Rosemary.
Aug 27, 2017 @ 18:47:03
Thanks for sharing this perfectly-structured haibun. What an experience that must have been. Every image in here is vividly felt.