All That Is Hidden

Dowsing sketch from www.skepdic.com

As water witch,

my muse holds out the wand

and wanders through my subconscious,

looking for all that is hidden.

When she taps into the Source,

she brings me back

a message.

A dream has died,
been set aside.

There is none other

to replace it.

Witch, what are you trying

to tell me?

Dowsing is described at paranormal.about.com as the art of finding water, hidden treasure or even missing people or objects. Kim's prompt at Verse First is: Water Table, which made me picture dowsing. Kim asks us to tap the water table and see what springs forth-in thirteen lines. 

Appetite

It is a sad day

when Wild Woman

has to admit

she now prefers

chocolate kisses

to the real ones.

for Verse First at Poets United 

where the prompt is Appetite

Wild Woman Tells All

Wild Woman, Indicating the Direction

Listen up, kids, because
Wild Woman has a few nuggets 
of hard-won wisdom to share.
Call 'em Crone Crunchies,
because you can put toppings on them,
and try to make them sweeter,
but in the end,
you're still eating what's underneath:
good for you, if not especially tasty.

First, you will look all over:
another book, another path,
a different place,
a different life,
tried on like your Great Grandma's old hat,
beautiful in its day,
but bearing no resemblance
to the life you will eventually
call your own.

You will look to person after person
to be that Other who will magically
make you whole,
then find out it is
An Inside Job.
Sorry, for that is the hardest truth I know.

Also difficult,
but necessary, 
is looking Within
and discovering that,
contrary to all your misgivings,
you are not more horrible or less deserving
than any other human.
You'll do, in a pinch.

You will give of yourself till you are
stripped bare,
yet it will never ever
seem to be
Enough.
Enough is what, eventually,
you will discover 
you are left with,
after you stop 
all the Looking 
and the Doing,
and you down-size on 
the Reclamation Projects,
for there clearly isn't enough time
to save the world,
or anyone, really, but, perhaps, yourself.
Enough is what's left
after you
strip away what doesn't serve you,
sit on whichever porch
you've landed up on,
and just stare at the sky
and listen to the birds.

After all that striving and searching,
isn't it a bummer to discover
that it's just that easy?

I always look forward to Wednesday, because Kim's prompts at Poets United's Verse First are always so wonderful. Today Kim wants us to tell the wild truth. So as usual, I just started tapping on the keys, to find out what I am thinking. Do check out Verse First. (I am eager to see what everyone else knows. Maybe we can combine the knowledge and start a movement!)