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Measuring the Depths: A Walk with Robert Spiess
Marjorie Buettner (US)

some sticks and pebbles, Robert Spiess, Modern Haiku Press, P.O. Box 1752, Madison, WI 53701, 2001, 64 pages

Close to reaching my 50th birthday, I have been toying with great plans of far reaching adventure, dreaming of the places I would love to see. But, of course, realistic obligations prevent me from this sweet escape and I am hoisted back into the real world. And, so, what would I like to do for my 50th birthday? Picking up some sticks and pebbles by Robert Spiess, I suddenly know. I would love to spend the day with Robert Spiess, and so I do, in a fashion.
This new collection of haiku, haibun and short verse is rich with the textures of his environment. Lakes, birds, trees, marsh, prairie, sky and more sky, each poem gives us a brief glimpse into the world of Robert Spiess:

some sticks and pebbles

..and a place with mud--

....a child by himself



And, just as this child, Spiess creates his poetic world from what is directly in front of him, what encircles and touches him. Deng Ming-Dao has said (as quoted in the book's preface): "There is no language of the holy. The sacred lies in the ordinary." This sacredness of ordinary existence is felt in many of Spiess's poems, especially in this beautifully lyrical poem:.

to sing the elements we share

the earth and water, light and air

from sound and scent, with touch and sight

the earth and water, air and light

and we shall teach our son and daughter

of earth and air, the light and water

that they may know the wondrous worth

of light and water, air and earth

These poems by Spiess teach us how to read and remember how easy life used to be and how precious all of it is. The poet asks us in his quiet, unobtrusive way: Why can't we slow down? Why can't we take the time? Why can't we listen or see what is all around us?

...there was leisure, then

turning.down.the.wick

...to.put.out.the.lamp


Here, in "quatrain," (which begs to be a sonnet) we walk with Spiess on that country road:

on early april days that balk

at being spring, i sometimes walk

...a country road for just the joy

of witnessing a soaring hawk

And we walk in the woods, too, in this wondrous lyric:

into the woods i come,

...an early april guest,

to see an olden plum

...that always blossoms best;

i find it scarce alive,

with flowers only five,

...but each the loveliest



Spiess's connection with the world of nature induces us to connect, too; we as readers see through the poet's eyes, hear through his ears, and, ultimately, we are fed through the poet's heart:

....simple counterpoint

as the spring creek tumbles

....over the beaver dam

And this

nearly dusk--

...mist distilling

...into drops

.....on tips of pines

As we walk with the poet, we find ourselves lingering, too, a while longer to savour the last light only a lake can offer. For each moment brings with it a new vision "which the beholder measures the depths of his own nature." (Thoreau, quoted by Robert Spiess as a preface to this haiku):

autumn dusk--

lingering at the lake

where geese are touching down

Marjorie Buettner

September, 2001

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