Premonition

A mother wakes, moments
before her baby’s cry, or
reaches with loving arms
just as her toddler stumbles

Call it instinct, or premonition

A sister calls in timely fashion,
was feeling a little concerned,
or arrives with tea just when
a break is exactly what’s needed

Call it instinct, or premontion

A daughter rushes to
her mother’s side, senses
the unanswered calls
are more than busyness

Call it instinct, or premonition

Then, why, when he cheated –
flaunted his courtships
with self-righteous bravado –
did I miss all the signs?

Denial negates instinct,
negates premonition.

(Premonition first appeared here February, 2018. Image my own)

Reflections

How do we recognize truth
in what is reflected back to us
especially when intrinsic knowing
has been domesticated out of us –
servility replacing preservation?

We are drawn by an insatiable
thirst to drink from the well
of human connections, require
acknowledgment, appreciation,
cannot bear to conceive of a life

of loneliness – we are social,
travel in packs, affectionate
souls conditioned to co-habitate,
habits instructing outcomes –
would be lost without mirrors.