The following are top results and commentary from the Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival’s 2024 Haiku Invitational contest, judged by Michael Dylan Welch, Antonette Cheung, and Garry Gay. We completed our judging in October of 2024. The following comments originally appeared on the Haiku Invitational page on the Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival website. See also my commentary for 2006, 2007, 2008, 2010, and 2015. +
by Michael Dylan Welch, Antoinette Cheung, and Garry Gay
The Vancouver Cherry Blossom Festival’s 2024 Haiku Invitational received 1,735 poems in six categories, ranging from 116 entries in the British Columbia category to 572 international entries.
We are grateful to have been entrusted not just with your poems but your expressions of the heart. Cherry blossoms have inspired poets and other artists for centuries, and although surely millions of cherry blossom haiku have been written in many languages, each of us can put our own fresh slant on how we experience these wonders of spring.
We hope you see such freshness and vibrancy in our choices of the six top winners and all the Sakura Awards and honourable mentions, and we are particularly delighted when so many young poets participate as well, this year with 368 youth entries from around the world. We have been generous with our selections—returning the favour, we hope, of each poet’s generosity in celebrating cherry blossoms.
The City of Vancouver is blessed to have tens of thousands of cherry trees that energize the entire region each spring, and it our joy to recognize this seasonal passage of time, even though ephemeral—perhaps because it’s so fleeting. We all have personal challenges throughout the year, but when winter gives way to warmer days, may the delight of cherry blossoms put a spring in our steps and joy in our hearts. And may all of this year’s selected poems sustain us all year round.
Michael Dylan Welch, Antonette Cheung, and Garry Gay, judges
her sense of direction
much better today
sakura blossoms
Rachel Enomoto
Burnaby, British Columbia
There is an unmistakable weightiness to this haiku despite the levity of the moment, and it is this dichotomy of heavy and light that makes the poem especially meaningful. On any other day, the poem’s subject may be struggling with her sense of direction, but not today. Today, there is hope for recovery and healing. This experience, when paired with the image of sakura blossoms, becomes a reason to pause and celebrate the significance of the moment. At the same time, the impermanence of blossoms suggests a tender awareness that this little miracle likely won’t last; as such, the experience becomes even more important to capture.
—Antoinette Cheung
before and after
cherry blossoms
the soft forgetting
Karin Hedetniemi
Victoria, British Columbia
This is a celebratory yet sad poem of attention that balances immediacy and context. The poet is here and now amid the blossoms, but not unaware of the challenges of life before and after the joy of the moment. The poet notices not just the blossoms, aware of the moment of reveling in them, but is also conscious that they are seen amid personal trials. The “soft forgetting” suggests old age in all its diminishments, or perhaps other tensions that are best forgotten or momentarily avoided. Despite this, for the moment the poet takes joy in the blossoms. As musician Carlos Santana once said, “If you carry joy in your heart, you can heal any moment.”
—Michael Dylan Welch
April breeze
the hopscotch squares
fill with blossoms
Joanne Morcom
Calgary, Alberta
This lovely haiku has a classical feel to it yet a broad universal appeal. It effectively captures a serene and beautiful moment. The poem’s imagery and emotional impact are strong. The haiku captures a fleeting moment, a passage of time, a distant childhood memory of when one was young. It juxtaposes the carefree nature of childhood with the gentle spring beauty of cherry blossoms. The poem blends nature with a hint of childhood nostalgia.
—Garry Gay
parting with a pinky promise cherry blossom
Sarah E. Metzler
Marion Center, Pennsylvania
This charming one-line haiku is both emotionally rich and visually striking. It masterfully combines a personal gesture (the pinky promise) with a culturally significant and visually evocative image (cherry blossoms), creating a layered and poignant reflection on the nature of parting. The strength of this haiku lies in its simplicity and the way it invites the reader to linger on the connections between the words and the images they represent. The poem offers a refreshing and creative use of the term “pinky promise.” The elements of parting, promise, and cherry blossom resonate with other elements to create a unified, bittersweet moment that we have all felt before.
—Garry Gay
heart to heart
with a stranger
cherry blossom
Madhuri Pillai
Melbourne, Australia
The scene I imagine here is of one person opening up to another, baring his or her soul. Perhaps it’s easier to do that with a stranger than with a friend or relative, at least with certain subjects or at certain times. And perhaps it’s the cherry blossoms that motivate this vulnerability, this act of sharing. We can imagine that this openness brings about catharsis or change, perhaps a resolution of some personal problem, even if just an emotional acceptance. As Japanese haiku poet Issa said, there are no strangers in the shade of cherry blossoms.
—Michael Dylan Welch
on the river
cherry blossoms float
my worries away
Raphe Dacre, age 12
Christchurch, New Zealand
As Hippocrates asserted, “Nature itself is the best physician.” This delightful haiku embodies what Hippocrates recognized so long ago, and underscores the relevance of reconnecting with nature for our youth today. For a generation that has become synonymous with smart phones and social media, the role of immersing in nature as an antidote to anxiety is particularly poignant. Standing by the river, we can imagine the poet keenly observing its energy and coming to understand that some things in life are beyond our control. And just like those cherry blossoms, sometimes it is by letting go that we enable ourselves to move forward.
—Antoinette Cheung