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 on East Hill.
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.
the pull of the invisible current
the underground stream.
It calls me.