Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: intuition

  • 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: Peripheral – 11/02/20

    Poem: Peripheral – 11/02/20

    Peripheral.
An untidy, outside view casting the unseen realms into my being.
I breathe them in,
gulping, drinking all I see with the colours which seem so worthy
of being absorbed,
I know their feeling.
 
I can be vaguely promised something more than a glance,
should I, with great enthusiasm, seek to swing my sight forthcoming
to see if focused I really can gather more
than peripheral sight has to offer,
because when unfocused sight occurs is when we
view and dream that which is not readily seen.
And amazed I will be,
astounded whereupon my mind finally casts to the sights
that I yearn for,
to be presented with.
Peripheral carries more meaning. 
 
There is nothing more trying that being unable to succeed
but, with ardour, I will try some more,
to view something, anything, that I can build upon
with strong ascent.
 
I will rise, my abilities to pursue that which I hope to observe,
but not only observe but to recognise and submit,
this is my dream coat,
my dream.   

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay

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