Spring Equinox 2025 – Haiku Musings Event

To mark the Southern Hemisphere Spring Equinox in 2025, we offer a new interactive opportunity – a chance to contribute a Haiku Musing and to respond to other poets’ musings. The prompt question for you to muse on is:

What do you find most helpful when writing haiku?

Writing a haiku can involve many considerations, such as where you find inspiration, the kinds of experiences you like to write about, your aims and approach, the haiku craft and techniques you employ, and how you go about editing your compositions. You are invited to share your thoughts on aspects important to your haiku compositional process. 

Please keep your Musing to no more than 250 words.

You may also respond to other poets’ musings with succinct comments.

This Haiku Musing event opens on Saturday, 20th September 2025, Australian Eastern Standard Time (AEST), and closes on Sunday, 28th September. 

We look forward to contributions from haiku poets worldwide.

Please enter your musing in the comments section below, and reply to a poet’s musing by using the ‘reply’ option below the comment.

52 thoughts on “Spring Equinox 2025 – Haiku Musings Event”

  1. Hi Alan. I love Janice’s comments on your haiku. The haiku does lead the reader’s thoughts well beyond the words written in the haiku. My aim is usually to lead the reader’s empathy beyond the exact words. If the reader has experienced a personal fluff of feathers, or a feeling of joy at watching the bird or a sensation of pleasure that spring showers must be celebrated in a dry countryside then I feel I have succeeded.

    What I feel about your haiku is the wonder at the sight of this bird, so silent and still at the verge of night. I am waiting for it to move. Waiting…waiting. It’s yellow eyes may follow me. And there is also a shocked surprise in our encounter. Not for the frogmouth, who is rarely surprised. As for the golfers, well they have gone and the bird can briefly occupy the part of his world that they have changed, much as birds use the telephone wires and chimneys, roof peaks etc.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Lynette,

      Back in early 1990s that Churchill district golf club was a sweet walk at dusk. I actually never had a drink in the club with its pokies.

      It was a fascinating experience for my brain to tell me there was a bird there, as I didn’t realise until a few steps on, and I just looked back in wonder and pleasure. I think it was my first ever glimpse of a frogmouth, I others after that, mostly in the daytime.

      I guess it is so many things, it’s what liminal realism is all about, isn’t it? It’s part of the new empathy.

      “liminal realism” is storytelling at the edges of scientific, mythical, and poetic worlds. It works as a kind of interspecies magic, situating the reader in-between human and other-than-human worlds.

      Bénédicte Meillon, (August 2021)

      warm regards,

      Alan

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Hi, Alan, I can relate to that. I am writing a speculative fiction novel about a climate changed future earth where humans seem to have vanished and sophisticated biobots have taken their place, so certainly at the margins of reality! There is much music, so no doubt haiku are written.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Ah, Cli-fi (climate fiction)! I feel there is no fiction, everything strange is real, and hopefully a better understanding of liminal realism (which I feel is the actual reality and not our filtered/perceived one) will become clearer, and of course haiku has a role to play, as always, tackling the hard-edge of today into tomorrow’s world.

          Liked by 1 person

  2. Anatomy of a haiku, now and then

    My first ever haiku contest win: Australian subject, living in Queensland; Australian organised competition judged by a famous Australian haiku poet:

    dusk at the golf club

    part of a marker pole

    a tawny frogmouth

    Alan Summers

    1st Prize, Fellowship of Australian Writers Queensland Haiku Competition (June 1995)

    Judge’s Report (Janice M. Bostok)

    https://area17.blogspot.com/2010/08/anatomy-of-haiku.html

    Breaking down my haiku using the “amicus vel inimicus” method:

    dusk : time of day,

    at : preposition used to indicate specific times, or location

    the : 

    definite article, determiner to introduce noun phrase/imply common knowledge, 

    or something about to be defined.

    golf : used as an adjective to show what type of activity

    club : noun, venue, location

    part :  can be an adjective

    of : preposition to connect nouns, show relationships and belonging

    a : indefinite article suggesting general or many objects

    marker : in relationship to ‘pole’ it’s an adjective

    pole : noun

    a : indefinite article suggesting a general or of many objects

    tawny : adjective, colour, specification

    frogmouth : noun, bird

    A tawny frogmouth is a nocturnal bird species native to Australia, part of the nightjar family (Podargidae). Its camouflage helps it blend in with tree branches and for their “sit-and-wait” hunting strategy.  

    We can use this in-depth breakdown to analyse one of our first and early haiku drafts before we put it back into its intended structure (monostich, 3-line etc…) and consider any further edits.

    Alan Summers

    founder, Call of the Page

    founder, sole editor, The Pan Haiku Review

    Liked by 2 people

  3. What I find most helpful in writing haiku is nothing to do with rules or guidelines or where I happen to be located; it is the sense that I am sharing something of what I experience. I have recently been putting some of the Australian Haiku Society haiku strings into book form. When engaged in this task, I feel I have the privilege of entering the world of each poet for a brief moment. What a joy to experience a glimpse of life across the globe!

    When I write, I need to communicate. Sharing our worlds and our connectedness is the most precious thing about haiku. That is why I started to write haiku. So I go for emotion, that flash of empathy, recognition, delight, finding that exact combination of words that enables another to share my experience. I remember the postboxes for haiku in Japan and the moments we share reading one another’s haiku at the end of a ginko. The laugh of recognition. Yes! Just so! Your haiku enlarge my world.

    spring shower the honeyeater fluffs her feathers

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Dear Lynette,

      We know empathy is under threat so haiku is, as ever, a wonderful vehicle in troubled times, as poetry has been from early times, right through covid and war etc…

      “The laugh of recognition.” is a great phrase. Even my tawny frogmouth haiku held no barriers back in England, which I was astonished about!

      spring shower the honeyeater fluffs her feathers

      Lynette Arden

      Great haiku, great verb choice! Lots of movement!

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Hi Julia, I don’t know how common they are, but there was one at a sightseeing place we visited where you could leave haiku and another at the Basho museum in Tokyo, where we all left haiku we composed on the spot. I am sure others have encountered more.

        Liked by 2 people

      2. Hi Julia. Yes there are special haiku postboxes in Japan, typically at places associated with haiku masters. I have posted a few on my various travels. Some are at museums, some are beside monuments, etc. Often there are blank forms supplied to write your haiku on. I’m not sure what happens after one posts a poem, but I assume they are collected by various sponsoring organisations, perhaps as contest entries.

        Liked by 2 people

        1. Hi, Leanne. When I visited Japan with a group of Australian and New Zealand haiku poets, we posted our haiku in the box at the Basho Museum in Tokyo. Sometime later our guide wrote to advise us that several of our haiku had been selected as the best of the year and were displayed by the museum. If the guide hadn’t told us we would not have known. They had also translated our haiku into Japanese. The box was on an open area at the top of the museum, near the statue of Basho. And nearby was a pool from the rain, filled with tadpoles. My haiku was one of those selected.

          near Basho’s statue
          a hundred tadpoles striving to become frogs

          Like

    3. “When I write, I need to communicate.”
      I think we can all relate to this, Lynette. Writing haiku, for me, comes from an urge to communicate, primarily to myself – to synthesize my thoughts into some form of cogency. Every other part of my life seems rushed and incoherent. Sitting down to write haiku offers me a rare opportunity to stop and listen to myself and tune into my inner-life.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. What helps me most when writing haiku is slowing down—both in my surroundings and within myself. Haiku begins, for me, with quiet noticing. A flicker of shadow, a gust of wind, a bird’s song, a distant train – these small, fleeting moments often hold the deepest resonance.

    I try not to chase a poem but let it rise naturally from a moment of encounter. Nature is a constant source, but so too are memory, dreams, and attitude. By attitude, I mean a willingness to open myself to my environment. Once something stirs me, I try to sit with it, distilling the sensation or image to its essence.

    Craft-wise, I’m attentive to juxtaposition—how two images, placed with care, can spark something larger than either alone. I often write more than one version, experimenting with rhythm, line breaks, or other nuances, before settling on what feels most alive.

    I aim for spaciousness over explanation, trusting the reader to step into the silence between lines. Ultimately, haiku helps me live more presently—and it’s that presence, above all, that shapes how I write them.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Attentiveness to juxtaposition is a great way to describe an important aspect of haiku craft, Rob. Finding two images with just the right amount of distance between them to spark something surprising and meaningful, without being too obscure, doesn’t always happen easily.

      Aiming for spaciousness over explanation is another interesting way to describe an approach to haiku composition. I agree that it’s important to leave space for readers to enter the poem, bringing their own experiences and imaginations.

      Liked by 3 people

    2. Dear Rob,

      My writing speed has varied from rapid and compulsory to drawn out over an hour, a day, a week, to much longer. I never know how the accelerator pedal will react!

      Great phrase: “I aim for spaciousness over explanation” Love it!!!

      Alan

      Liked by 2 people

  5. What do you find most helpful when writing haiku?

    There are two things I do that are particularly helpful for my haiku writing process. One is undertaking ginkō. The other is reading lots of haiku by others. Both have to do with being in a receptive frame of mind. Going on a ginkō takes me out of my normal routine and allows me to pay attention to the ‘here and now’ of whatever environment I’m in. Since I tend to compose nature-based haiku inspired by direct experience, the sensory details that I tune into as I’m walking and pausing on a ginkō are the foundation for many poems. The rhythmic activity of walking is also good for allowing memories and thoughts to flow freely in association with what I’m sensing from my surroundings. I find that reading plenty of haiku by others helps to prime my mind to produce haiku. Ideas seem to arise naturally as phrases and fragments, and even whole poems, when I’ve been reading haiku. If I’m going through a fallow period, and not writing much, two great ways for me to get back to haiku composition are to pick up a haiku journal and immerse myself in it, and to head outside with a notebook and pencil. These activities aren’t unique to me. They are available to just about anyone. That’s one of the strengths of haiku composition as a creative pursuit: it doesn’t require any special equipment, can be done just about anywhere, and, with plenty of quality haiku journals available to read for free online, it needn’t cost much.

    Leanne Mumford

    Sydney, Australia

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Dear Leanne,

      Writing haiku only through direct experience was something I did for years, and it is not always easy to form a poem around it, with such a short ‘form’. I guess I might have moved on and into “inspired by actual events” and then factional, magical realism, and now it’s most liminal realism which I talk a lot about in my feedback.

      Nowadays there is so much about haiku online, and professionally I require myself to keep on top of my research as much as I can. It’s a very affordable pursuit with walking and writing, musing at home, bringing out a notebook or a scrap of paper at cafe, or a hospital waiting area as I did recently!

      Alan

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I agree that we must be careful not to allow our view of haiku to retract to being merely a vehicle for nature observations. Haiku have long been used to make perceptive social and psychological observations.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Lynette, I agree that haiku can do much more than simply observe nature. Sometimes I find that nature-based images can invite engagement with societal issues.

          clear water

          in Wineglass Bay, we skim

          over whale bones

          (Leanne Mumford, Windfall 2, 2014)

          *

          our shadows falling

          across the ancient midden—

          Murramarang

          (Leanne Mumford, Windfall 8, 2020)

          *

          wading through Tunnel Creek echoes of Jandamarra

          (Leanne Mumford, AHS Winter Solstice Haiku String, 2017)

          Liked by 2 people

  6. These small moments in time that help to highlight nature, a feeling, a sense of belonging, the preciousness of our natural world. The 3 lines seek to shine a light for the reader to enjoy and reflect on the seasonal elements and how they impact the texture of colour, plants, birds, animals and the weather to name a few.

    falling leaves

    lost in the margins

    of sunset

    Joanna Ashwell

    Liked by 2 people

    1. As some of you might know, most of my reactions to haiku poetry prompts is to immediately pen a single line haiku! Though I still write a lot of 3-line haiku too.

      The seasons, and not the natural seasons, but anything celebratory or otherwise during a season or part of a season (soccer, tennis, politics, war, music festivals such as Glastonbury or local Summer ones etc…) are to be explore and often ramp up a haiku.

      I wrote an article about ginkō writing, for instance:

      local pride festival

      glints of perfect nail colour

      in the pint of lager

      Alan Summers

      Ginko: All Fingers and Thumbs with Alan Summers

      Blithe Spirit 33.3 (August 2023)

      Summer kigo

      Of course beer (and lager) are Summer kigo in Japan, and Pride Festivals are also often Summer events, mostly as we can believe the weather will be calm, dry, and warm!

      Liked by 1 person

        1. Your haiku are always inventive and enjoyable to read Alan.

          Thanks Joanna!

              romantic breakfast

              I butter my toast twice

              distracted by my wife

          Alan Summers

          haibun:

          Catching the train 

          in four acts

          Pan Haiku Review issue 5

          haibun & tanka-bun edition part two (Summer 2025)

          (smiles)

          Liked by 2 people

  7. To me a haiku captures a moment in time, in the past, present, or future – in as many less syllables as possible and dresses it in image(s) that describe it. This forms the base of the haiku and incorporating the kigo and Kira creates a haiku that stands out as an example.  And reading and re-reading it is what gives the haiku a shine of its own.

    Example:

    atop the mountain

    clouds and i

    passing time

                                — Lakshman Bulusu,

                                     Princeton, NJ, USA

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Dear Lakshman,

      I like the idea of “a haiku captures a moment in time, in the past, present, or future“

      When everything is in the past the moment we experience something, our ‘now-present’ is best caught in the future a split second away!

      Alan

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Dear Alan,

        Thanks for your reply. And yes, I like your comment about the ‘now-present’ being best caught in the future a split second away!

        Regards,

        Lakshman Bulusu

        Liked by 1 person

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