Crop Circles

photo from inverse.com

 

Here’s a poem of mine that appears in my book Scattered Showers in a Clear Sky:

Crop Circles

 

“Early in my writing career I came to believe that the stories I wrote were already written in the unconscious by a hand other than my own.”

– James Lee Burke

 

 

Geometry was my worst subject,

but I love it slicing its way through the cornfield.

Flowers, Mandalas, Pentagrams,

twelve years now, each summer

new theorems.

Snowflakes, insects,

quilt squares,

Who speaks here?

What message whistles

in the high corn?

In the wheat , what coded words

have I been ignoring?

The cure is part of the art,

the unfolding of the origami of pain.

At the approach of the reaper,

sheaves bow down like Joseph’s dream,

not cut,

but bent.

 

photo by Monique Klickenbergh   on inverse.com