A Sanskrit word for intuitive knowledge of such certainty it is a state of being.

Every time Imogene Conner opened her door 
instead of hello, she asked, Well, what do you know for sure

and I always came up empty. Some scientist determined dust clouds 
in the Milky Way would taste of raspberries and another says 

koalas have fingerprints nearly identical to humans, but what if
Imogene wanted to know something soul-deep true,

like Elaine’s conviction when she first met Bill, that she’d marry him.
Like Edgar Mitchell, who looked at earth from space

and knew life in our universe is not random. 
Like Amanda’s certainty that she’s lived several previous lives 

and in each her mother was someone close but not her mother. 
Once, on trip to Egypt, Amanda entered a tomb

and remembered she’d been locked there as a slave. 
The tour director had to ease her outside as she sobbed.

Imogene died over two decades ago but I still see her, 
leaning against the screen door. I still hear her voice asking.