untitled haibun.

[cidermaid]

Edit 1.
It was good to see that “my” oak tree was still standing. I had just walked the path from the beach to the high meadow, passing the fallen heroes of another age. They had stood for centuries, becoming vast in girth and their reach of shelter. One by one they did not wake from their winter slumbers. Their leaves withered and they failed to answer the whispering wind. The power of the passing storm tore them from their anchorage, splitting open diseased hearts and laying them bare. Re-sculpting the landscape.
A similar work had been wrought on the beach. Re-moulded, the debris swept away and a firm smooth expanse left, inviting to the foot and eye. Unsullied by the fallen land and low tide litter. The only adornments, were a few bright pebbles and some shells; arranged on the lower skirts of the tide reach – looking like a necklace of gems glittering in early morning light. I know, that if I can hear the rattle of bones and see the broken ribs of an ancient sailing ship that came home when she ran adrift, then the storm was significant and I then like to check on the Oaks. (Mentioned in the history books, the ship carried passengers and supplies).

Standing oak, new growth -
A shipment of grain and wine.
Well seasoned export.


original
It was good to see that “my” oak tree was still standing. I had just walked the path from the beach to the high meadow, passing the fallen heroes of another age. They had stood for centuries, becoming vast in girth and their reach of shelter. Then, one by one they did not wake from their winter slumbers. Their leaves withered and they failed to answer the whispering wind. The power of the passing storm found their weakened form and tore them from their anchorage, splitting open diseased hearts and laying them bare. Re-sculpting the landscape.
A similar work had been wrought on the beach. Re-moulded, the former debris swept away and a firm smooth expanse left, inviting to the foot and eye. Unsullied by the fallen land and passing tourists, the only adornment were a few bright pebbles and some shells; arranged on the lower skirts of the tide reach – looking like a necklace of gems glittering in early morning light. I know, that if I can hear the rattle of bones and see the broken ribs of an ancient sailing ship that once ran adrift here, then the storm was significant and I then like to check on the Oaks. (Mentioned in the history books, the ship carried passengers and supplies).

A land of standing oaks -
a shipment of bread and wine.
Well seasoned export.

[billy]

hi aj, haibun is enough as it incorporates the haiku

i enjoyed the the way the storm was measured and the way the haiku tied into the prose. i'm struggling to see the seasonal word but i'm sure bread, well, or specially, wine, could be used. (wine grapes are picked in a certain season)

to play the brevity of the haiku off the lengthy prose. i wonder if standing oaks would stand up in it's own right.

[cidermaid]

Hi Billy thanks for the feedback. Done a couple of edits. I agree about standing oaks comment but sadly not ready to be set free from the need to keep the syllable count.
Also managed to forget my seasonal word , although thanks for the generosity of looking for it in the wine grapes.
Was aiming at the idea of a domestic travel journal - from beach head to meadow and then the haiku being the summation of the metaphor reversed - from meadow to beach head.

Oh and only just got the referance to "Haibun being enough" thought they were seperate poetic forms - just re-looked them up and now get the meaning of you message - always something new to learn here

[Magpie]

Edit 1.
It was good to see that “my” oak tree was still standing. I had just walked the path from the beach to the high meadow, passing the fallen heroes of another age. They had stood for centuries, becoming vast in girth and their reach of shelter. One by one they did not wake from their winter slumbers. Their leaves withered and they failed to answer the whispering wind. The power of the passing storm tore them from their anchorage, splitting open diseased hearts and laying them bare. Re-sculpting the landscape.
A similar work had been wrought on the beach. Re-moulded, the debris swept away and a firm smooth expanse left, inviting to the foot and eye. Unsullied by the fallen land and low tide litter. The only adornments, were a few bright pebbles and some shells; arranged on the lower skirts of the tide reach – looking like a necklace of gems glittering in early morning light. I know, that if I can hear the rattle of bones and see the broken ribs of an ancient sailing ship that came home when she ran adrift, then the storm was significant and I then like to check on the Oaks. (Mentioned in the history books, the ship carried passengers and supplies).

Standing oak, new growth -
A shipment of grain and wine.
Well seasoned export.


original
It was good to see that “my” oak tree was still standing. I had just walked the path from the beach to the high meadow, passing the fallen heroes of another age. They had stood for centuries, becoming vast in girth and their reach of shelter. Then, one by one they did not wake from their winter slumbers. Their leaves withered and they failed to answer the whispering wind. The power of the passing storm found their weakened form and tore them from their anchorage, splitting open diseased hearts and laying them bare. Re-sculpting the landscape.
A similar work had been wrought on the beach. Re-moulded, the former debris swept away and a firm smooth expanse left, inviting to the foot and eye. Unsullied by the fallen land and passing tourists, the only adornment were a few bright pebbles and some shells; arranged on the lower skirts of the tide reach – looking like a necklace of gems glittering in early morning light. I know, that if I can hear the rattle of bones and see the broken ribs of an ancient sailing ship that once ran adrift here, then the storm was significant and I then like to check on the Oaks. (Mentioned in the history books, the ship carried passengers and supplies).

A land of standing oaks -
a shipment of bread and wine.
Well seasoned export.

Hi cm,
I really enjoyed reading this, there are some very beautiful descriptions. Also I had never heard of haibun before, so I thank you for that, it is always good to learn new things. It is good to know that other people have "their" trees, I have "my" scots pine. I am wondering why you removed "found their weakened form" from the original, because when I read this earlier today I did like that bit, but as I am reading I've noticed "diseased hearts" straight after, so I'm presuming that is why.
I think it was a good choice to replace "tourists" with "low tide litter"
(a beautiful phrase by the way), but my only query would be that because you use "lower" and "tide" in the next sentence they do seem quite close together. But this sentence "The only adornments, were a few bright pebbles and some shells; arranged on the lower skirts of the tide reach – looking like a necklace of gems glittering in early morning light." is very beautiful, my favourite in the piece and I was glad to see that you didn't alter it in the edit.
A couple more points, first "the broken ribs" is an excellent description and second by adding "came home when she ran adrift" in the edit makes the image more personal and powerful even though I thought the original was fine.
The edited haiku makes more sense also. And like you I am not ready to move away from the 5-7-5 structure, but shhh, it upsets a lot of people and they might be listening right now.
Thanks for the read, I really enjoyed this.

[cidermaid]

Thanks you Billy and AT for the insightful comments and help.
AJ

[billy]

yep, the prose feels tighter. with what you removed and added, the removal of 'then' from the 2nd line was the best part of the prose edit. i do think the rest helped the read also.
the haiku works a lot better
using 575 is great, one proble with it is that sometimes we add a word like 'the' or 'and' in order to make up the syl count. when we do this we can sometimes force the image and make it less natural, what ever count you use, don't force it

[Keith]

Hi CiderM
I really like the way you have blended these two pieces, the way you have captured and described these images allows the reader such a clear view of your early morning check on the Oaks feels now like I have also had a look. The haiku is a lot smoother after the edit so nice job all round. Very much enjoyed. TOMH

[heslopian]

Edit 1.
It was good to see that “my” oak tree was still standing. I had just walked the path from the beach to the high meadow, passing the fallen heroes of another age. They had stood for centuries, becoming vast in girth and their reach of shelter. One by one they did not wake from their winter slumbers. Their leaves withered and they failed to answer the whispering wind. The power of the passing storm tore them from their anchorage, splitting open diseased hearts and laying them bare. Re-sculpting the landscape.
A similar work had been wrought on the beach. Re-moulded, the debris swept away and a firm smooth expanse left, inviting to the foot and eye. Unsullied by the fallen land and low tide litter. The only adornments, were a few bright pebbles and some shells; arranged on the lower skirts of the tide reach – looking like a necklace of gems glittering in early morning light. I know, that if I can hear the rattle of bones and see the broken ribs of an ancient sailing ship that came home when she ran adrift, then the storm was significant and I then like to check on the Oaks. (Mentioned in the history books, the ship carried passengers and supplies).

Standing oak, new growth -
A shipment of grain and wine.
Well seasoned export.

The prose reminds me of how Virginia Woolf wrote: with intense detail, magnifying, illuminating and anthropomorphising even the smallest images. The haiku is brilliant because it's level-headed, well-structured and subtle. I've read so many haiku (some my own) which are just lazy tossings together of a few meagre words that have no respect for what a haiku's meant to be that reading yours was uplifting. Cheers, cidermaid

[Brownlie]

Ok, I've never seen this form before, it's good to be able to learn some things from this website. I think that a title that maybe sums up a general theme or a repeating image might help readers extract more meaning from the piece.

It was good to see that “my” oak tree was still standing. I had just walked the path from the beach to the high meadow, passing the fallen heroes of another age. They had stood for centuries, becoming vast in girth and their reach of shelter. One by one they did not wake from their winter slumbers. Their leaves withered and they failed to answer the whispering wind. The power of the passing storm tore them from their anchorage-- Tore them from their anchorage thats cool , splitting open diseased hearts-- While it sounds cool I Don't get the meaning of diseased hearts and laying them bare. Re-sculpting the landscape.
A similar work had been wrought on the beach. Re-moulded, the debris swept away and a firm smooth expanse left, inviting to the foot and eye. Unsullied by the fallen land and low tide litter. The only adornments, were a few bright pebbles and some shells; arranged on the lower skirts of the tide reach – looking like a necklace of gems glittering in early morning light. I know, that if I can hear the rattle of bones and see the broken ribs of an ancient sailing ship that came home when she ran adrift, then the storm was significant and I then like to check on the Oaks. (Mentioned in the history books, the ship carried passengers and supplies).

Standing oak, new growth -
A shipment of grain and wine.
Well seasoned export.

So the narrator is checking to see if her Oak tree fell after a storm and then he/she muses about storms in general?
I don't know anything about Haibun, but the prose (if you can call it prose I don't know the exact terminology here) was well written. If this were a piece of flash fiction or something I would search for a climax at the beginning and some sort of quick epiphany (My knowledge is limited here).
I saw some people have chained multiple paragraphs with prose followed by a haiku so this piece could probably be expanded. Thanks for posting this was thought provoking.

[cidermaid]

My thanks to all who have posted replies. i really appreciate your time and considered comments.
@ Brownlie. I had two thoughts in mind. One is the phisical aspect of an older tree becomming hollowed out as the heart wood rots, the next high wind or storm that comes through will split them (sometimes from top to bottom). The other aspect of this image is connected to the undermeassage of this being a picture of christians (or men of faith) They become old and set in their ways and they become hard and brittle (with no give or grace in them)...the heart that should be soft with love and grace is diseased. (Then the storm in this case become a move of God to change the faith landscape).
Thank you so much for your comments. I have been giving much thought to a title but as yet have not found anything subtle enough that does not give too much away.
AJ