You sit on the paper rolled out on the doctor’s bench.
With her stethoscope she listens at your back.
She pauses, stills, leans closer.
She comes around and listens at the front.
Her eyes widen.
She sits, staring into the distance.
“What did you hear?” you ask. She is silent.
“The voice of God,”
she says, and returns to her silence.
______________________
Weather Report
Partially spoken today
with periods of clearing,
as the Word, in its continual flow,
at times condenses around
and within us.
Fifty percent chance of participation.
Copyright (c) 2010
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
unfoldinglight-(at)-hotmail.com