Intuition

If I was psychic,
Into hearts I’d peek.
Out of love I’d know,
enlightenment I would seek.

I’d use no crystals,
but a drop of the sea.
I’d quietly listen
to a soul’s single plea.

I would use not divination
but tides receding,
Would look not to a palm
rather than the night stars reading.

Intuitive I’d be,
with life before birth;
my breath on the wind,
my pulse in the earth.