Roar

My intuition is a sacred roar.

It begins as a tickle in my chest.

It rumbles.

A low growl.

The pause.

The shift.

The tightened jaw.

The silence.

I notice.

I always notice.

Hypervigilance taught me

to study every movement,

every word,

every change in tone.

Intuition taught me

to listen.

Self-Portrait (Inn of the Dawn Horse) (1937–38) by Leonora Carrington.