Dave Bonta's "Soothsayer" is a short, quiet poem about knowing hard times and feeling alone with that knowledge. The title suggests someone who predicts the future, but the opening line turns that on its head: the speaker is "foretelling the present." There is nothing mysterious to predict. The trouble is already here, and the speaker's job is simply to see it clearly.
The speaker says they "stay sensible of misery," meaning they refuse to look away from it. "The straits we are in" widens the view from one person to a shared, difficult situation. Then comes the central image: a keeper of a church "in the heart," where "we garden all alone." The picture mixes devotion, upkeep and slow, patient work, but the word "alone" is heavy. The mood is solemn and watchful, with a little tenderness in the gardening. Judging by the imagery, the speaker cares for something inward and sacred, even if no one else shares the task.