Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: fortune

  • Prose: A Foretelling Sense of Importance – 27/05/21

    Prose: A Foretelling Sense of Importance – 27/05/21

    I prioritise the things that are important, so too, the people in my life. I acknowledge every moment, but I magnify the truth behind what’s necessary or needed. What is unnecessary will fall by the wayside; I must work to the best of my ability to sort the endangered from the general herd. And to understand that people bless me with their presence, with a smile, a tilted upward nod, a wink and a half, knowing that they’re instilling their emotions and feeling, well, this is a sign of their efforts to form a second’s connection – their own sense of priority, a type of gentle dedication.

    I feel a sense of progress travel with me while everything paves the way for me. I watch as the invitingly tactile moss rises from the cracks in between the pavers, slowly, slowly, I know that it will become plentiful, these rows, with time. And softened like green clouds, upon them I could rest my head, sleeping in a state of fitful rest, that, with a heart so heavy, could carry nothing else but what is already inside of me.

    One who can foretell the future through their writing – is it what you would call an intuit, or something else? For when I prioritise with words, my messy cursive, my gentle, haphazard scrawl, I detail that which becomes strangely relevant into the future days: ideas, feelings, formulae. It’s oddly relevant, this is what I have to say. Perhaps my subconscious forewarns and foretells, and it is up to me to discern which way my truths should be taken – warnings or fate, these would, by then, have already been spelled, typed, and saved, hypotheticals and predictions become reality to be seen, shall I become yet amazed? No, but I will take heed of what has been written upon my page.

    © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

    Previous Post: ‘A Decree to be Felt, Heard, and Seen’ – 26/05/21

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  • Poem: Crystal Gazing – 24/04/20

    Poem: Crystal Gazing – 24/04/20

    I gaze into the crystal ball,
eager fortunes and fierce dreams to find,
the smoky scene is quartered,
into sections the interpretations are spread,
their great divide.
 
There is something special about these areas
that makes one tingle and shake,
the magical moments of being able to envision
another’s hopeful future,
though occasional destitution features,
their saddening fates.
 
The vibrations of the visions,
they tell me to absorb them,
then move along, along,
there is no point in lingering past my welcome,
the spirit world assures me of this,
to remain longer would be inherently,
entirely wrong.
 
The spirits’ fleeting presence seeps
into and around
the crystal ball’s view,
telling me to reveal?
No, to withhold,
at most,
I understand this is the correct thing to do.
 
May the querant’s hopes be as receptive as
naked skin upon electrified flesh,
a certain truth he wonders,
or when she says,
“Fortune teller,
tell me old, 
share my fate determined ever
softly or bold.”
 
But, I cannot,
even if I am paid for the service,
a true teller obscures,
does not specifically state one way or another,
and all in due course.
 
Instead I smile and dote upon their
accompanying card reading,
positive traits,
and unwind-unwind,
they don’t need to continue
their obsession as to what their fortune might be,
unworthy of pursuing,
little point in trying to find.  

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.   
Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

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