Soul Scope


As a slight sun

Squinted through the drowse

And shutters of night,

I caught this morning

Mother Earth stirring

In four polestarred bed.


The wind sighed,

Ruffling the tree tressed crest;

Plucked fingers of leaf

Tingling the supine mountain

Spine rigid.

Downslaughted the slanting sultry

Husbanding rain

Seeds on the taut sleek earth, seeping

Pores, seeking

Hollows, sounding

Bottomless wells, replenishing

Hidden springs

Of ecstasy, in her transport

Conscious only of unwinding currents.

Oblivious of their source.


Swollen sun

Streams slivered

Over the quenched relaxed

Earth, releasing

Mist waves to recharge

The proud glowing strutting marshalling heavens.



Stanley French