Intuition

You are teaching again
at our little Buddhist group,
of noticing.
In the Friends Meeting,
in a circle of chairs,
four hundred miles
from where you came
to live with me here.
We were married by your teacher
in your meditation hall in Cambridge.
I hear her voice in yours.
I hear the Buddha's voice in yours,
the one about noticing warmly,
the little voice he heard in his head
when he knew that the Dharma
would be made into hallucinations.

She whispered to him
and pressed the seeds of the heart
into the lines of his palm.