Auguries 4


Sometimes, when I stare down

the silvered hallways,

my father stares back.



This you should know my son:

Where sea touches sand

auguries multiply.

In the bellies of starfish,

in the jungles of wrack,

in the salty galaxies of shells

auguries are born.



This rock is a skull,

that cloud, an eagle,

and do you see the mermaid

in that drift of sand and seaweed

when the light is, just so?


Now close your eyes

and trace the Shaman’s face

with your sea blind fingers.

It was carved from this driftwood

by a magician,

singing to you.


Inundated and confused

I lean into visions,


to decipher anything.

Brave maps become

empty paper bags

dancing in the wind.

Desires become

cascades of crows

released from clouds,


through bones of trees.


“Try to lean toward ecstasy”

she said,

“and maybe, if possible,

keep leaning.”



Kudos, thanks and credit to the anonymous driftwood sculptor.

Poem and photograph by clinock.


19 thoughts on “Auguries 4

  1. What a great photo of this amazing found object John…….definitely carved by a magician. Those eyes reveal inner truth. Your poem reveals a deeper inner vision leaning towards…..may I say, ecstasy!!!!!


    1. Yes, and thank you Robert… I was blown away finding this carving and others on the beach…another layer of magic woven between the unnumbered that are the edges of oceans…


    1. I do hope the shivers were friendly ones Kathleen, not ghosties or icy drafts under the parlor door. Thank you so much for your kind words and for dropping by.


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