"prescience"
one eye
foretells
a heavy shadow
where cadence falls,
another drifts
among unmade timber,
deaf to low whispers
in the wall.
Let prescience
name its price,
the place,
the hour
— it is
an unknowing breath
that keeps us whole,
tossing uncalculated dice
across the dark.
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 12th, 2026 05:00
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments2
much enjoyed
Thanks Norman. Most appreciated, my friend 🙏🕊️
always welcome
This poem speaks of shadows to me. It tells of those feelings we get, whether instinct or supernatural that raises goose flesh on the neck or leaves a feeling in the pit of the stomach with no real reason. Often ignored or blocked to protect ourselves from fear and an inability to act against unknown forces we pretend not to hear. Yet its rumblings are present and we await the roll of the dice. It is haunting and most relatable. It is in the cadence that there is an eerie and tentative feel yet each line follows with a knowing that in the end sense will be made of it all. If we only knew we could predict the fall of the die, but something tells us that we might not want to know. Nicely done my friend and a fave.
Thank you, Soren. Shadows are an excellent visual here. 🙏🕊️
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