Haiku. They’re simple in form yet complex in meaning. It’s because of their seeming simplicity that they’re often disregarded as masterful wastes of time. But to the poet they convey everything that ever needs to be said; for the most intricate thoughts imaginable can be articulated perfectly, magically, beautifully through three lines of verse. What cannot be said in seventeen syllables is not a strong enough emotion in the first place. A haiku communicates beyond the language of literature. It may sound ludicrous, but haiku express what cannot be said in words. They’re short so we can glance at them and instantaneously feel overcome with the ardent ambiguities or potent passions implicit in their auras. Sometimes a glance is all we need to understand. “Sometimes irrationality is the only clear, healthy choice.” We’re finished before we’ve begun.

Where do I begin
With seventeen syllables?
And where do I end?