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Premonition
The sun shines down in undimmed majesty
Across the heavens’ undiminished breadth
On life unsapped, unweighted levity
Of loves and laughs untinged with sight of death—
Except for mine. An unseen shadow thrown
As night across the day strikes untold fear
In me of doom unnamable yet known,
Unseen but felt, and menacingly near.
Untouched by prophecy, my ears hear naught;
But, undeceived, my eyes behold the shade
Of unimagined cataclysm wrought
Upon the heedless world that plays unswayed.
I call to it. Unmoved, it turns away
And laughs, unconscious of the coming day.
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Adam Sedia (b. 1984) lives in his native Northwest Indiana and practices law as a civil and appellate litigator. He has published four books of poetry and his poems, essays, and fiction have appeared in various literary journals. He is also a composer, and his musical works may be heard on his YouTube channel.
What a great poem about having a premonition. I had many in the military and it saved me and my men on more than one occasion.
Roy – I am delighted to hear that – thank God you are here! Amen to that!
Bless you, James, for caring!
It’s a true compliment when it comes form someone who’s experienced the subject matter! I have heard an uncanny number of stories about premonitions during military action. I think the heightened attention attunes us to details we would otherwise miss.
A wonderfully evocative poem, particular in its appropriate use of diction: all the words beginning ‘un-‘, underscoring a negative that doesn’t exist but yet which threatens to come into existence: minatory indeed.
Thank you!
Very evocative. I can’t recall any premonitions, but coincidences have left me with the same shaken feelings you express here, Adam.
Thanks for the read.
Thank you for your compliment. “Evocative” is what I aim for in poetry.
The insistent use of the un- prefix is the primary rhetorical mechanism in this sonnet. They all fix together perfectly, like the small gears in a watch.
Sedia saves the volta for line 13, where all of a sudden the speaker comes directly into focus. The clipped “I call to it” makes the premonition very stark, because it is now personified as an “it” that turns away, laughs, and is unconscious. This is a direct confrontation of the speaker with Death Itself.
This ended up much darker than I intended when I sat down to write it, but I was more than pleased with the result. Thank you for appreciating the repetition of the “un” prefix.
The stark contrast you portray between the first quatrain — with its “unweighted levity” — and what follows, is striking, setting the mood and the suspense needed for a poem entitled “Premonition”. And the way you personify the premonition at the end gives chills.
Thank you! Hearing that a poem of mine could give chills is a wonderful compliment.
Unambiguously impressive, Adam. Just to collect these un- words in such number and use them effectively in a short poem is an impressive … uh … undertaking. But you’ve really (now you’ve got me going) unleashed some power here: the personification at the end may be death, but I’m put in mind of Liszt’s (and who else’s?) idea, in connection with his Faust Symphony, of a kind of murky “opposite of”–call it an “Ewigneinliche.”
You are right: Liszt is great for evocations of the macabre. Your suggestion comes very close to my conception of the personified premonition — not death, but certainly a malevolent presence.
I like the poem, Adam, because with all the “undefined” about the premonition, it is “known,” “felt,” and beheld at least as a shade. It causes fear “in me” the speaker, but it is not a fear for himself. He sees the shade of “cataclysm wrought upon the heedless world,” of which he is part, to be sure. He calls to the world (neither the premonition nor the cataclysm can be the antecedent here) which remains “unconscious of the coming day.” Even that last word is uncertain in meaning. You could have chosen something darker and more threatening. “Coming day” in poetic discourse is often a bright prospect, though in another usage it could be the “day of wrath.” Great work to end with a premonition that remains ambiguous!
A very perceptive reading. I have never been blessed (or cursed) with a direct vision of anything to come, but I have definitely experienced intuition or “gut feeling” of something bad (or good) about to happen, either personally or on a large scale. I wanted to capture precisely that undefined feeling, which is why this poem is about a premonition and not a prophecy.
The next thing I know will be that you wrote this poem while sitting on the shore of Lake Eerie. Beware of what’s hiding in your own shadow.
Sage advice indeed.
This poem shall stand unconquered by hands of time, which is unimaginable in the present era we live in – because there’s so much of verse around that is unpoetic and unmemorable. But this surely is one of those unforgettable ones.
Thanks a lot, Mr. Sedia for writing this.
Thank you! “Unforgettable” is one of the best things any poem can be called.
Excellent, Adam