Morning haiku

This new volume by the much-loved poet Sonia Sanchez, her first in over a decade, is music to the ears: a collection of haiku that celebrates the gifts of life and mourns the deaths of revered African American figures in the worlds of music, literature, art, and activism. In her verses, we hear the sounds of Max Roach "exploding in the universe," the "blue hallelujahs" of the Philadelphia Murals, and the voice of Odetta "thundering out of the earth." Sanchez sings the praises of contemporaries whose poetic alchemy turns "words into gems": Maya Angelou, Richard Long, and Toni Morrison. And she pays homage to peace workers and civil rights activists from Rosa Parks and Congresswoman Shirley Chisholm to Brother Damu, founder of the National Black Environmental Justice Network. Often arranged in strings of twelve or more, the haiku flow one into the other in a steady song of commemoration. Sometimes deceptively simple, her lyrics hold a very powerful load of emotion and meaning.

There are intimate verses here for family and friends, verses of profound loss and silence, of courage and resilience. Sanchez is innovative, composing haiku in new forms, including a section of moving two-line poems that reflect on the long wake of 9/11. In a brief and personal opening essay, the poet explains her deep appreciation for haiku as an art form. With its touching portraits and by turns uplifting and heartbreaking lyrics, Morning Haiku contains some of Sanchez's freshest, most poignant work.

• 14 haiku (for Emmett Louis Till)
• 1 Your limbs buried in northern muscle carry their own heartbeat
• 2 Mississippi... alert with conjugated pain
• 3 young Chicago stutterer whistling more than flesh
• 4 your pores wild stars embracing southern eyes
• 5 foot prints blooming in the night remember your blood
• 6 in this southern classroom summer settles into winter
• 7 i hear your pulse swallowing neglected light
• 8 your limbs fly off the ground little birds...
• 9 we taste the blood ritual of southern hands
• 10 blue midnite breaths sailing on smiling tongues
• 11 say no words time is collapsing in the woods
• 12 a mother's eyes remembering a cradle pray out loud
• 13 walking in Mississippi i hold the stars between my teeth
• 14 your death a blues, i could not drink away.

14 haiku (for Emmett Louis Till) 1. Your limbs buried in northern muscle carry their own heartbeat 2. Mississippi… alert with conjugated pain 3. young Chicago stutterer whistling more than flesh 4. your pores wild stars embracing southern eyes 5. foot prints blooming in the night remember your blood 6. in this southern classroom summer settles into winter 7. i hear your pulse swallowing neglected light 8. your limbs fly off the ground little birds… 9. we taste the blood ritual of southern hands 10. blue midnite breaths sailing on smiling tongues 11. say no words time is collapsing in the woods 12. a mother's eyes remembering a cradle pray out loud 13. walking in Mississippi i hold the stars between my teeth 14. your death a blues, i could not drink away. Excerpted from Morning Haiku by Sonia Sanchez All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.