by Krista Franklin

January 6, 2023

Study to show thyself intuition exists, iridescent orb, the third eye crown jewel between of bull’s horns. A closed mouth nestles the sacred on the bed of the tongue. Listen, the whisper that bellows beneath the conscious self, in the shadow grows the seed of god shifting in you. To tune the ear is to sit at the altar of silence, hush the chatter of the mind’s preschool, soothe the fretful heart in the blue waves of regret.  

Poem copyright 2026 by Krista Franklin. All rights reserved.

See more poems from Krista Franklin on The Fight & The Fiddle: “Mourner’s Corner,” “On Measurement & Invisibility,” and “This is not your poem.”

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Read more in this issue: Interview | Critical Essay | Writing Prompt