New Yorker Haiku

My mother-in-law got me a subscription to The New Yorker magazine for Christmas, and now I feel so literary... almost elitist. It's such a heady feeling, to be in the company of the intelligentia. ;)

Seriously, I do like the magazine, even if there are some issues that don't connect with me on any level. Others are terrific. And in almost every edition, something is worth reading.

This time around I saw in the poetry section something that immediately grabbed my attention: a multi-stanza haiku based on a verse from Ecclesiastes. I mean, how much more of a connection could there be? It's like, "you had me at hello.." :)

So here it is.. self-explanatory, and lovely. Nicely done, Rich, old boy.

ECCLESIASTES 11:1

We must cast our bread

Upon the waters, as the

Ancient preacher said,

Trusting that it may

Amply be restored to us

After many a day.

That old metaphor,

Drawn from rice farming on the

River’s flooded shore,

Helps us to believe

That it’s no great sin to give,

Hoping to receive.

Therefore I shall throw

Broken bread, this sullen day,

Out across the snow,

Betting crust and crumb

That birds will gather, and that

One more spring will come.

----- Richard Wilbur