Haiku Lurking in the Brothers in Peril Trilogy

Poetry, especially the Japanese haiku, reminds me of interactive games and media. Listening to haiku and creating the poems can be fun, or they can give you a kind of calm melancholy, depending on the mood you bring to them. The haiku, which generally has a first line of five syllables, a second of seven, and a third of five again, forms a framework and allows the readers to imagine the scene and interpret the meaning from their own experiences.

The themes of traditional haiku center on nature and the four seasons. They convey a keen awareness of an emotion and may hint at a philosophy of life. One theme often repeated is the fleeting nature of beautiful things. The gorgeous cherry blossoms, which last for about a week, are beloved symbols to many Japanese people of what is treasured, but too short-lived.

Since I have at least one Japanese character in all my stories, I’ve included one or more haiku in each novel. In the Brothers in Peril Trilogy, Sara from Japan is a main character along with two American young men. Although the stories have a thread of romance and a foundation of faith, they focus on adventure and conflict, with tall sail ships, a deserted island, pirates, and even the American Civil War—hardly topics we associate with poetry. But I have subtly (I hope) slipped one haiku into each novel anyway. Here’s a preview:

Book One, Entrapped, has this one from the poet Issa: Full moon of autumn—I clasp hands around my knees—Not having a friend. This one doesn’t require much thought, but it does conjure up an emotional picture. It fits Sara’s situation perfectly when she becomes a castaway on a remote island, her chance of rescue being virtually nil.

Here is the one by Sodō in Book Two, Isle of Darkness and Light: Within my lodging—In the spring, there is nothing—There is everything. Sara recalls this haiku when she glimpses a scene of breathtaking beauty in spite of living in a cave while marooned. In Sodō’s case, he is referencing spring’s splendor, such as exquisite cherry blossoms around his bare hut. Notice how we must pick up on “spring,” “nothing,” and “everything” to get the poem’s impactful meaning.

And Book Three, Fields of Shadow and Glory, has this one from the poet Buson: In the morning mist—As if in a painted dream—Men go on their way. We can easily picture this, yet some thinkers explain the poem as capturing the fleeting moments in which ordinary life can appear “unreal and temporary” as if part of a painting or a dream, even as mist blurs the natural world. Sara interprets the haiku’s mention of a painted dream in a unique way, actually treating the haiku like a riddle. I won’t put a spoiler here.