About

The haibun is a traditional Japanese literary form which began with Basho, the first of the four great pillars of haiku. In it the haijin presents an account of a journey, interspersed with haiku. It is, if you like, something like an artist's notebook, with sketches accompanied by jottings and reflections on the scenes described therein. But where the notebook is the artist's preliminary exercise and aide memoire, the haibun is a completed work in itself. Silver Path of Moon, however, breaks with tradition in several respects. It does not report or recount a journey in any material sense. Rather, in a series of poignant and sensual vignettes, and with a tone and frankness akin to a report from Cleo or Forum, a woman reflects her past loves which cannot be restored. The journey, then is in human emotions and across time. And its firmly crafted verse encompasses senryu, tanka, linked haiku and western forms as well as traditional haiku. Yet in its linking of past loves and lovers to the changing moods and seasons of the natural world, and it's recognition of the transiency of human existence set against the vast canvas of eternity, Silver Path of Moon maintains a clear connection with the great masters of haiku. They would, we feel, recognise and applaud this work.

Janice Bostok lives with her husband Silvester on a banana farm in a little village called Dungay on the North Coast of New South Wales. She is undoubtedly one of the most accomplished and widely published haijin in the English speaking world. Her work is equally well known and respected in Japanese haiku circles. Her previous publications include Banana Leaves (1972), Walking into the Sun (1974), Hearing the Wind (1976) and On Sparse Brush (1978). Janice is a member of Paper Wasp, the first Australian haiku society, and a co-editor of its journal, Paper Wasp. She is also haiku editor for the poetry magazine, Hobo.

Proudly published by Post Pressed

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Extract

from Night Heat

...A sudden gust moves the curtain, stirs your senses. I touch your face. Sleepily your answer is inaudible. Then slowly your thinking clears.

waking in the night
without speaking we turn
into the love embrace

Your skin glows faintly light in the darkness. I reach down and find you:

dark of the moon
enclosed in my hand
he begins to swell

You lie there surrendering to me, letting me stroke you, with many fingers of desire. Child-like you trust me, encourage me, lean into my body. A late moon rises. I clearly see the the black dispersing...

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