Manifesto

A haiku fits inside a single breath. Seventeen syllables at most, three lines at most, and the whole world within.

To look

A haiku begins with attention. A falling leaf, breath fogging a window, the cat on the wall, the smell of rain on warm stone. The poet reports what was seen with accuracy and tenderness, without comment, without moral, without flourish.

To disappear

Here nobody talks about themselves. The “I” steps aside for whatever stands in front of it. A good haiku leaves room for the reader, who enters the poem like an empty room with the window open, and finds themselves facing the world.

The dandelion

We chose the dandelion as our emblem. A head of a thousand light threads, held by a breath, each seed leaving alone to carry elsewhere what it contains. A haiku released to the wind follows the same path. It leaves its author and finds a reader further on.

A network without noise

Haijin is a new kind of social network. No popularity counter glows here. One discreet gesture, resonance, tells an author that a poem has found its echo, and only the author knows the number. A haiku is answered with another haiku. The wall scrolls at the pace of the wind, with no algorithm chasing attention.

Open to everyone

The temple welcomes beginners and seasoned poets alike, in French and English to start with. Each language that joins us will bring its own way of looking at the world.

Last updated on November 9, 2026