The Sciku Project

soul of the dodo
awaiting de-extinction
sighs don’t don’t

by Mark Valentine

A bioscience company believes it has made a crucial step towards bringing back the dodo, the flightless bird from Mauritius, extinct since the 17th century.

Further reading:

‘Scientists claim they’ve made ‘pivotal step’ in bringing back the dodo for first time in 300 years’, 2025, Milman, O., The Guardian, available: https://www.theguardian.com/science/2025/sep/17/dodo-birds-gene-editing-advance

Author bio:

Mark Valentine lives in Yorkshire, England, and is a short story writer, and essayist on book-collecting. His haiku has been published in dadakuku, Modern Haiku, Heliosparrow, Presence, tsuri-doro and other journals.

all trees together
silently make one forest
right in front of us

by Suzanne Beaumont

My home faces east with a view just beyond the yard of a few acres of woodland. I often sit in the living room, reading or writing, but always finding respite, upon looking up, in the view of those trees; they are my most constant companions. I have spent years gazing at them as they cycle through the seasons, enduring the harshest moments of each one, steadfastly advancing what the seasons ask of them. Whatever competition is being waged there, it does not come amidst the clashing of wordsmithed-swords or undignified flash-bangs and handcuffs. That is left to their human neighbors who continuously mistake their brief lives as zero-sum endeavors. We could look to the trees that stand next to each other, sharing sky and earth so that all can survive. Above and below, the trees eschew sole ownership of their knowledge, giving and taking whatever is at hand; they are through each other.

There are many texts and studies now that confirm and quantify this way of life. Crowns grow only to the width that will allow their neighbors to co-flourish. The tallest beings shelter the understory inhabitants. Each member of the woodland flora and tree communities, acts as a sentinel, standing guard and proffering chemically coded messages, borne through the air, of threats that could break them all. Below, in shallow and deep earth, thick roots and thin mycorrhizae and mycelium do likewise. Abundance is shared, warning messages are propagated, something we learn, but briefly, during dire events, like covid-times. Even in death, the trees continue to nurture and provide for their community, like haiku poets whose words find resonance beyond their time with successive generations.

I don’t recall what I was reading or writing or what feeling I had conjured, when something about the still constancy of the woodland gave me a silent lesson in community; perhaps they wrote this haiku as a gift, and so I offer it to you.

Further reading:

‘Trees Have Their Own Way of Social Distancing: A treetop expert explains the mystery of “crown shyness”’, 2020, Baillargeon, Z., Atlas Obscura, available: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/how-trees-social-distance

‘Better Understanding of Trees & Their Ecology’,2010, Cachat-Schilling, R., ecological landscape alliance, available: https://www.ecolandscaping.org/03/designing-ecological-landscapes/trees/trees-a-challenge-of-perspective/

‘Underground Networking: The Amazing Connections Beneath Your Feet’, Horvath, W., National Forest Foundation, available: https://www.nationalforests.org/article/underground-mycorrhizal-network

Permaculture Apprentice: https://permacultureapprentice.com

Author bio:

Suzanne Beaumont writes to know herself and to explore the world around her. She has studied writing with Natalie Goldberg and is currently studying haiku with Clark Strand. Her work can be found in The Wake Forest Review, Trash Panda, Haiku Pause, and the California Urban Forests Council Instagram.