Now

[Eugene]

now is the ever present
we walk away from but never leave,
the light between, the moving image,
the word, the scene, the face
the harbor, where love falls
in and out, and we are left
to wonder, what was that?
and why?

o

this is where yesterday ends
where tomorrow wants to be
where escapes are plotted
and sacrifices made

where the holy of holies and
the lags of security
sell promises to the blind
where now remains unseen and untouched
where hope is secured and always
unrealized, in a dream

o

this is where our loveliest
and most painful memories
once lived, where all
our least and greatest ventures
shrivel at their root
where inspiration
and despair find
their depth and height

o

where all becomes nothing
and nothing, all, where in the face
of all that is rational and reasonable,
beyond certainty and doubt,
magic moves the opening of a flower,
turns grass to green,
the grub to butterfly,
holds each star apart,

now and here, behind these eyes
and beyond, perceiving
without hope or fear,
a place that always is,
never was, and will never be