HAIKU DIALOGUE – Working with the Soil – working with the soil in a modern context – commentary

Working with the Soil with Guest Editor Arvinder Kaur

Human beings share an inextricable relationship with the soil. The word “human” itself is derived from humus, the organic matter, symbolising the intertwined nature of human life and soil. Our connection gets established right at the time of birth, and we share a deep emotional bond with our land. Deriving sustenance from it we take pride in our Mother Earth and swear by its sanctity. Many cultures have deep, spiritual connections with the soil evident in the myths of Earth goddesses and creation stories in folklore where legendary figures are born from it and mysteriously vanish into it. Some of the earliest means of livelihood are connected to the soil. Agriculture and farming have been our mainstay since time immemorial. Soil shapes our food securities and is, therefore, the backbone of economies. An agriculturist, like anyone else, faces lots of challenges. Natural calamities can ruin a whole year’s hard work and sometimes a poor farmer finds it hard to meet the daily needs of his family. The recent floods in northern India have completely altered the nature of the soil which may require scientific intervention not many will be able to afford.

The gardener works with the soil and draws livelihood by nurturing and manicuring. Horticulturists and viticulturists too transform the soil and bring their own science and artistry to it. Potters mould clay to shape their own destinies and perhaps those of others. Earthen lamps light up homes in a most beautiful and aesthetic way. Then there are brick-makers, construction workers, architects, archeologists, environmentalists…the list is endless. Modern-day farming also benefits from the work of soil scientists, engineers and conservationists. Everything reminds us of the earth beneath our feet and when it shakes, it spells disaster.

However, it remains true that the earth is the symbol of quiet patience, receiving whatever is given to it, a fallen leaf or a yet-to-germinate seed, bearing the weight of our lives, our cities and keeping our histories close to its bosom. So, our relationship with the soil is not just professional, it is something much more intimate and deep. It is a relationship of faith and of hope. The farmer who sows the seed knows and hopes the earth will nurture it. The gardener tends the flower bed with a hope that the earth shall respond with an exquisite reward for his hard work. As the potter shapes the clay, he also shapes memories. There is no better teacher for the lesson of decay and renewal than the earth itself. And this lesson is the very basis of our lives. We are born on this earth, and we are bound to return to it.

How do we relate to our soil? In the weeks that follow we shall explore the fundamentals of this relationship.

Below is Arvinder’s commentary on additional poems:

greening
a concrete jungle
vertical gardens

Subir Ningthouja
Imphal, India

The compelling juxtaposition of ‘greening’ and ‘concrete’ made me stop in my tracks. Isn’t this what urbanites are grappling with? In an emotionally sterile environment Nature makes its soft invasion and ‘vertical gardens’ emerge as a symbol of quiet resilience even though human ambition appears overbearing. Even in a world where concrete and steel dominate, Nature reclaims its space. The vertical aspect suggests an upward aspirational movement.

The stark irony of human progress comes out in such few words. While humanity works to sustain human life, it often ends up strangulating the basic elements essential for it. Nature comes to the rescue even though it might be through cracks in the walls. The ‘greening’ takes humanity towards healing and towards peace. The poem may also be read as a metaphor for inner renewal. Instead of being just a terse comment on mindless urbanisation, it emerges as a quiet protest against environmental neglect and as a vision of balance.

prairie flower
neonicotinoids
in bloom

Laurie Greer
Washington, DC

The delicate prairie flowers are pitted against the unsettling presence of neonicotinoids suggesting a dichotomy of modern life. There is this tension between natural beauty and human intervention which characterises urban life. The bloom of the prairie flower suggests life in its purest form, fragile and momentarily triumphant. Nature blooms despite the invasive antagonists in the form of neonicotinoids. It underscores a central irony that the agents designed to protect the crop end up poisoning it. The poem seems to mourn the fact of living in a world where survival itself is an act of resistance.

The poem is an elegy disguised as a moment of beauty. A strong reminder of life’s transience despite scientific inventions.

lights
LED
layer
by
layer
tomatoes
growing

Rupa Anand
New Delhi, India

An extremely layered poem, literally and figuratively. The alliteration adds to the musicality in a subtle yet suggestive way. The structure itself is the meaning, unfolding with restraint which comes through in the sparse use of words. The presence of LED lights takes the poem towards the modern context of farming where innovation is used to enhance the environment leading to a tender coexistence. ‘layer by layer’ is metaphorical as well as an actual method of modern cultivation. The humble tomatoes appear as continuation of tradition into modernity.

There is an underlying musicality and cadence that adds lyricism with precision in this poem. It celebrates another level of harmony and a new form of abundance.

between skyscrapers
all the colours
in a garden patch

Ravi Kiran
India

This poem immediately establishes a contrast between the monumental and the minuscule, a small ‘garden patch’ in the middle of ‘skyscrapers’, an everyday urban visual and a favourite one with those selling apartments in high-rises. The spatial juxtaposition speaks for the defiance of the garden and for its survival. We might be urbanites to the core but we invariably get attracted to the small patch of garden for that is where we must take our everyday walk, that is where our children play and grow.

‘all the colours’ is not merely visual but also seems to represent joy, renewal and perseverance to hold on against the onslaught of urbanisation. The ‘garden patch’ signifies all that is soft, subtle and serene in human existence. It is a symbol of reconnection with all that gets left behind in the rat race of modern urban living. How cultivation and farming still exists even though it takes on a much different perspective. Nature seems to lend us a helping hand, literally offering a space to breathe in the cityscape.

parking lot
where my childhood
chased butterflies

Nitu Yumnam
UAE

There is an inherent melancholy in this poem that springs out of the fact of how personal histories can be rewritten by modern spaces. There is a striking juxtaposition between the harsh reality of a ‘parking lot’ and the tenderness of childhood memories. It reads like a whole world cruelly snatched and swallowed by urbanisation. It won’t be too harsh to say that the poem symbolises an invasion, even a violation of innocence. The poem enacts the harshness of the present while a softer, more vibrant present rises like a butterfly and quickly disappears. The loss is implied through juxtaposition alone without getting overtly sentimental though the poem mourns the demise and burial of childhood.

The quiet power of the poem lies in what it leaves unsaid.

baisakhi day—
the dhol’s beats fade
into the thresher’s hum

Hifsa Ashraf
Pakistan

Again a poem about the passing of an era, a way of life through cultural connotations associated with farming. ‘baishakhi day’ has tremendous significance. On the agrarian level it is associated with harvesting, with renewal and collective joy. It is also a sacred day having spiritual significance. The opening line situates us in tradition, festivities and culture before reality hits. The ‘dhol’s beats’ become a sound metaphor and the fact that these are fading tells us the story of our times. Is it loss or is it transition? The answer to the question is left for the reader to answer as per individual perceptions. ‘fade’ has a gentle melancholy which lends an endearing quality to this poem.

L3 takes us to the juxtaposition of the sound metaphor. The ‘beats’ have given way to the routine ‘hum’ of the thresher underlying a mechanical progression that was necessary. But this coming away has left us nostalgic and somewhere we do hear the beating of dhols albeit fading.

The poem encapsulates a philosophy that is agrarian and existential at the same time.

soil lab
the faint smell of rain
in every sample

Sandip Chauhan
USA

Here we have the all too sensory ‘smell of rain’ against a sterile, almost clinical setting of a ‘soil lab’. It evokes the first rain on dry earth immediately conjuring up the magic of petrichor and in doing so it situates the poem in time and place. L1 has already taken us to the modern context of farming. In a deft manner the poet has woven in the charisma of rain into as mundane a setting as a lab. It is a striking example of quiet transference from a laboratory to the field from where the samples are brought in with the ‘smell of rain’.

The sparse use of words goes well with the small samples that are brought in. Data is just one aspect of this beautiful poem which balances precision and lyricism reminding the readers that humanity might have made great progress yet we must remain rooted to the soil, we must remain humble.

Join us next week for our next prompt…

Bios:

Guest Editor Arvinder Kaur, author, translator and an award-winning poet, specializes in English literature and Media Studies. She was one of the founding editors of the bilingual haiku journal Wah. She has been a guest editor at Triveni, Failed Haiku and recently at The Haiku Foundation’s Haiku Dialogue. Her haiku have appeared in several national and international journals. She is the author of four books of micropoetry, two of which are bilingual where she has translated her own work into vernacular. Her books have been very well received in India and abroad. She lives in Chandigarh, India with her family.

Assistant Editor Lafcadio, a former teacher, now works from home writing, editing and proofreading study guides for nursing textbooks. She lives in Tennessee. She has written poetry for a long time but a couple of years ago fell in love with Japanese micropoetry and hasn’t looked back. Lafcadio has been published in a number of journals and anthologies. She writes under the nom de plume of Lafcadio because nom de plume is so fun to say. You can read her poems on Twitter (X) @lafcadiopoetry or BlueSky @lafcadiobsky.

Assistant Editor Vandana Parashar is an associate editor of haikuKATHA and one of the editors of Poetry Pea and #FemkuMag. Her debut e-chapbook, I Am, was published by Title IX Press (now Moth Orchid Press) in 2019 and her second chapbook Alone, I Am Not, was published by Velvet Dusk Publishing in April 2022.

Lori Zajkowski is the Post Manager for Haiku Dialogue. She lives in New York City and enjoys reading and writing haiku.

Managing Editor Katherine Munro lives in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, and publishes under the name kjmunro. She served as Membership Secretary for Haiku Canada for ten years, and her debut poetry collection is contractions (Red Moon Press, 2019). Find her at: kjmunro1560.wordpress.com.

Portrait by Laurel Parry

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Photo Credits:

Banner photo credit:  Pratham S.S. Jolly & Ravi Singh (Canada)
Prompt photo credit:  prompt photo two: Ravi Singh (Canada)

Haiku Dialogue offers a triweekly prompt for practicing your haiku. Posts appear each Wednesday with a prompt or a selection of poems from a previous week.