Your dipping abdomen,
regular
as a metronome,
seems to reveal
your true identity:
nature's divining rod,
unerringly finding
and revealing
waters.You seem more skilled
(certainly more subtle)
than the human
Water Witcher
with her urgent directions:
"Dig your well here
and you'll need fear
no drought!"Of course,
it could be argued
that it takes no great skill
to find these waters,
sparkling
as they are.
The surface film
never quite
breaking.
The fist-sized gravel
and nearly level grade
warping the boundary
between air and water
to perfectly meet
your exacting specifications.
But surely
there is magic
at work here.After all,
the waters contain,
with each rhythmic tap,
another and another and another
translucent,
jeweled,
organic
watchwork machine
of infinite
coiled complexity:
the essence
of your being,
the promise
of your continuing
far beyond
this present,
this most precious
moment.Ah, there it is, then:
You witch not for waters,
but for dragonflies to come!
_____________
- Roy Beckemeyer 1997
This Web Page Last Updated 12 October 2001