When it’s quiet
And you walk by that low table
The one with the lamp on it

There’s a low repeating vibration
Like a phone on mute
Ringing, calling

Stop to answer, listen, explore
No, there’s no phone there

Beside the lamp
Sits a small stone Buddha

Check the lamp, the Buddha
Must be something vibrating

With nothing apparent
Must be Buddha calling

Stop, be present
Listen