poem

 Divining

I’m divining sources of moisture

Deep within the ground,

Patiently waiting for mystical sticks

To waver and then cross.

Fossilized rocks beckoning

With secret magnetic solaces

Telling me where to stop,

When to grab hoes and picks

And start to hack at the earth.

These ancient porous aquifers 

Can sense the earth shifting

The way I start to tremor

When I sense you’ve divined

Some rich vein deep inside me;

I'm left trembling in anticipation,

Wondering what it is you’ll find.

8/10/21