“Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own, instead of someone else’s. “- Billy Wilder

“Trust your hunches. They’re usually based on facts filed away just below the conscious level.” – Joyce Brothers

“The only justice is to follow the sincere intuition of the soul, angry or gentle. Anger is just, and pity is just, but judgement is never just.” – D. H. Lawrence

“All great men are gifted with intuition. They know without reasoning or analysis, what they need to know.” – Alexis Carrel

“There’s still the part of me that wants to leap at every opportunity, but now there’s the other side that says, ‘Let’s just wait a minute and see what happens.’ That’s intuition, and it comes with age and experience.” – Kim Cattrall

“The smallest flower is a thought, a life answering to some feature of the Great Whole, of whom they have a persistent intuition.” – Honore de Balzac

Hello everyone and welcome to another exciting week at Prompt Nights. Often there are times when I wake in the morning bursting with excitement; wondering what intuition will toss back at me. It’s a gift formed  by feeling and instinct; of knowing without reasoning which is further ignited by hope. It’s said that a hunch is creativity trying to tell us something. Perhaps it’s time we strain our ears and listen. Tonight, I want you guys to write down something that has sprung from deep within. Go ahead and follow your intuition. Previously written work is more than welcome. For further inspiration please refer to these three wonderful poems below:

Conscious am I

by  Emily Dickinson

Conscious am I in my Chamber,
Of a shapeless friend —
He doth not attest by Posture —
Nor Confirm — by Word —

Neither Place — need I present Him —
Fitter Courtesy
Hospitable intuition
Of His Company —

Presence — is His furthest license —
Neither He to Me
Nor Myself to Him — by Accent —
Forfeit Probity —

Weariness of Him, were quainter
Than Monotony
Knew a Particle — of Space’s
Vast Society

Neither if He visit Other —
Do He dwell — or Nay — know I —
But Instinct esteem Him
Immortality —

To a Stranger 

by Walt Whitman

Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

The road not taken

By Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

So pick up a pen and lets begin! As always the prompt will remain open the entire week so that everyone can write according to their own pace and time. Please click on the blue widget below. When it opens be sure to click on “add your link.” Now skip the blanks and proceed directly to “try here” written at the end in small font. It will direct you on how to link your poem. Please visit other Poets and do comment on their poems. Have fun ❤