Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

I'm pressed, pressed, pressed for time! So here's a poem I wrote a couple years back.

Dig?

The Now Poem

Blow it - you can't
it is now and whatever
purple or bloated words
you gesture from your hat
Now they are perfect

See it in your eyes
turn out and about
flesh wronged or
silent sung
It is Now

You can't destroy it
you can not crumple it
Now rises and rises
and rises and is
ever and always
your friend
   your moment
     your child

It is impossible to see
it is your ever present dream
it is breath and life
and all the un-solid
confused harmonies
          Now it is.    It is.      Now.

                                           - July 13, 1999

Copyright 1999-2003 by Alyce Wilson

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