GEOMANCER

After he retired, Dad couldn't sleep,
and soon after we moved into the farmhouse
on County Road 3, he became a geomancer:
a diviner of earth, a divider of space.
Out in the backyard in his plaid bathrobe
he would position rods carefully to capture
the auras of the soil and trees, striding
in determined angles, concentrating,
listening for the "lines" in the ground:
negative energies beneath the earth's surface
that disrupted his own energies, his equilibrium.

We began to move like nomads across the country,
as Dad followed invisible lines in the cornfields
and hills, charted underground streams and
energy disturbances — first with wood then with special
copper and steel needles, tracking "earth radiations"
(sicknesses of the ground) as we tagged along
like frightened but slightly curious bystanders. Awestruck.
Wondering why the ground never spoke to us.

— barbara fletcher