What is a Haibun?
The haibun is essentially descriptive prose embedded with haiku (at lease one). The prose paragraphs are in journal style and the haiku amplifies the prose. Creating an idyllic tone is crucial. The poet tries to elicit the same emotional response with words that an artist does with a painting. Brushstroke paintings, Haiga, sometimes will accompany a Japanese haibun. In the contemporary haibun, photographs, drawings, pictures or computer art can be used.
How did the Haibun come about?
Traveling On Our Own Path
In the late 17th Century a wandering poet-monk, Matsuo Bashō, took a trip into the interior of Japan. His travelogue of this trip and the four following journeys are the foundation for the currently popular poetic form—The Haibun.
The west is in an experimental phase with the haibun, expanding boundaries of what can be done with and within the form. Buried within experimentation comes the study of established practices. In the development of a haibun additional elements the poet may want to consider are:
descriptions of actual travel, internal discovery or momentary events
terse writing
abbreviated syntax
vital, descriptive imagery
personal observations in present tense
oblique connection between prose and haiku
Haibun usually start with a prose paragraph, however the reverse haibun starts with a haiku. Linked haibun are written by more than one poet, sending the poems back and forth for additional sections.
American and British poets are reinventing the form for a new time and place, here and now.
An example is of a contemporary vision of the Japanese Haibun is shown below:
Last Quarter-Mile
by JoAn Osborne
Cold wind polishes the air to a mirrored finish. Stars reflect the pale moon resting on the horizon. In the midst of the forest a soft silence blends with the sacred. The soft rustle of trees whispering among themselves rises as they join in a heavenly chorus of Nearer My God to Thee.
frozen reservoir
waits for brush of silver skates
weight on its sleek skin
The bus chugs along. I pull on galoshes, button my coat. Caught in the headlight the ragged edge of the paved road ends. I must walk the last quarter-mile. A snow blanket colors everything white. Only the dirt road’s berm and ruts guide me toward the light from the house a good distance away.
winter canyons form
dusk, in tune with Artemis
invites me to play
A Beaver moon kisses the pines. I hear shuffling and panting and know—he is there to walk me home. His collie-like fur has been wet and now frozen. Small ice-balls sparkle around him. An unsettling echo pierces the night. All is peaceful, yet anticipation hangs in the buffed air.
I am ill at ease
come along with me, dear friend
lay paws upon cold earth
The door opens; a haze of smoke from the wood fire obscures the room. Darkness has comes early, before his suppertime or mine. The smell of fried chicken and the gilt sound of laughter greet us. I stand tall, draw warmth down into my lungs, into my heart.
the owl calls my name
old dog waits curled at my feet
feath’ry snowflakes fall
I would love members to try this form and exercise your poetic muscles and / or try to help that Writer's Block 
Enjoy!!
{{{~~~***Dr. Rob***~~~}}}
Japanese Haibun
