poem 6/29/2013

divining with a stick

it was hickory and forked. It was in a suitcase carried by a professional diviner and he said,

"you want to try it?"

i felt the tug of the earth

or was it water pulling me

into its deep current-

and there was water there

-later confirmed by more scientific calibrations-

but too deep to plant a well.

what does this all mean 

when you can feel the thrum of 

the bending river

hear it moving under the flat dry apparently solid ground

where you stand unsuspecting

ignorant of its power and duplicity

I am a writer 

i turn to face truths that cause others to quail -

and i know about how to escape - i spent years perfecting my distractibility.

further-it is my nature to want to parse and dig and understand the deep.

oh i get it. 

my nature: 

the pull of the invisible current 

the underground stream.

it calls me.