kisame

Kisame

The Japanese have over 50 – FIFTY – 50 words for rain. Today I am using one of my favorites: kisame 樹雨. This is the rain that drips from the tips of tree branches. I have used the traditional haiku for this.

summer passing – tree
branches weep rain tears
lost in pond below

shutterstock image

Haibun Monday: 50 Shades of Rain

Hello. I am the Pubtender over at dVerse Poets Pub today, Monday. I am using as my prompt for the haibun, one of the more than 50 words the Japanese have for rain. That’s right, 50 words for rain – at least. They are seasonal, regard intensity, night or day rain, drizzle – you name it. Rain in all its many forms. I have chosen the word “kisame” which means the rain that drips down from tree branches. It is one of my favorite of the Japanese words. Come join us at dVerse to read more about the haibun and this haibun in particular. Or at least come and learn the words!

Kisame
Summer was turning to fall. It was still hot but one could see the difference in the angle of the light. You had been gone for several months and I was learning to live on my own. It was raining and had been raining for several days. I stood under the old oak tree with my eyes closed, breathing deeply – listening to the rain falling around me. The sound as the soft rain tapped on the tree leaves and branches, the grass, the roof of the house – all was a steady soft shush of sound. Sometimes a bird called, lonely and distant. I pulled my katana to begin my forms. I swung the sword in the first form and noticed droplets of rain scattering from its edge as it sliced through the rain. Plop! On my forehead. I looked up and saw the droplets dripping from the leaves, sliding to the edge of the branch and drip drip driping down. I noticed then that around me, the trees and bushes were weeping. Drops of rain fell from them to the earth – tears I could not shed. I sheathed my katana and silently bowed to the weeping trees. They wept for me. I closed my eyes and felt the hot tears sliding down my cheeks. Like the trees, I wept silently. “Anata ga okonatte imasu” You are gone. https://dversepoets.com/2016/06/20/haibun-monday-50-shades-of-rain/

rain drips silently
from branches – trees weep for
the ones left behind