From a deep well the water is healing,
On the surface it is used — filtered, at best.
The hint of the subconscious is deathless,
A surface thought is uncalibrated.

Intuition is the experience of ancestors
Gathered in treasuries,
Gold pollen from volumes of notes,
Passed to descendants as neutrons.

The winnowing and cleansing
Of train-cars of thought-ore —
This is calibration and the raising of the grade
For the next generations of neutrons.