I actually heard a voice, sharp and urgent:
“Do not enter. Turn around. Go home NOW!”
Yet I sat in that driveway for half an hour,
wrestling in air scented by 40 chimichangas
I’d painstakingly fried. How could I waste them?
I’d driven close to an hour to reach this party
held just to introduce me to a special man.
This was long ago before I understood
the power of my premonitions.
I didn’t heed it, instead rushed distractedly
in to meet my nightmare.
I tried so hard to save him
for so many years. Instead he nearly
killed me, and I dragged my beaten self
a thousand miles to heal.
So a few years later when I dove cleanly
into the deep blue ocean
from a fishing boat a mile from shore,
when the voice screamed,
“Get in the boat NOW!”
I swam as if propelled by a jet engine.
They turned on the fish finder
in time to see a shadowy monster swimming
underneath the boat, back and forth,
searching for the delectable morsel
that had disappeared like magic.
So now I listen and when
the voice says, “Yes, go this way,”
or “No, run like hell,”
I do so without question.
A premonition is a gift
and I will never again stop
to question the giving.