Haiku — integrating Microcosm with Macrocosm

A lot has been said & written already by the exponents & subject matter experts of Japanese poetry on its origin, its structure, its nature & the philosophy behind the various popular forms such as Haiku, Senryu, Tanka or a Haibun.
I’m taking an audacious step to pen down my thoughts merely as an enthusiast & a self-tutored student of the Japanese poetic form. I must admit, it was this hashtag trend #haiku & #haikuchallenge that intrigued me to explore further on the subject in the year 2018. It introduced me to the much popular & commonly adapted form of Japanese poetry ‘Haiku’ in the multiverse of the social web.
There are other intriguing forms besides haiku as well; be it senryu, tanka or haibun (prose poem), each form has its beauty. Each of these forms has a unique treatment with its subject but the underlying principle of brevity and vivid imagery is intact in all these forms.
What has kept me captivated about haiku is the brevity with which one captures the depth of the subject, being spoken/written about. While there appears a juxtaposition, I feel this form is rather a medium that enables the poet as well as the reader/listener to see the subtle integration of a microcosm into a macrocosm and vice versa. It’s like fitting a universe in an atom and at the same time creating a universe out of an atom.
I came across Zen Koans, while reading The Gateless Gate by Kōun Yamada a few years back and got to learn about the concept of koans. While Haiku is not a koan, a koan deals with a problem and guides the listener (Zen monks) to arrive at the realization. I feel Haiku also does something similar for us commoners. Haiku weaves vivid imagery and narrates the beauty of nature through the mention of seasons or a particular moment in time. But what it tells us is very subtly about the fleeting, ever-changing form of nature and our relationship with it. There’s much more depth to it than what meets the eyes. It leads us from apparent to the inherent, from evident to the subtle.
Writing Haiku is like meditating, you merge with your subject. Observing things from an observer’s as well as the subject’s viewpoint. It lets you experience the very precise moment where time becomes still and at the same instant as you step out of it, you see it fleeting. It’s a beautiful experience. That’s my philosophical take on it.
Why I also like writing in these forms be it haiku or senryu or for that matter, a tanka is their free verse form. It embodies the principle of wabi-sabi, acknowledging imperfection. It is this imperfection that leads to perfection gradually.