The tomb of the now
Shake the shadowing past, o lover,
leap ... at the last possible moment -
(every possible moment) -
from the departing train.
Ditch that tiresome chaperone,
cynical governor and guide.
You'll end up, likely, on the wrong side
of the tracks. Learn your way around.
Reject the pitches of the barkers and carnies -
the winking future, the lurid rarees;
slip out of the rickety constructs
of the row houses and seaside pavilions.
Enter the tomb of the now.
Leave your strategies, tendril desires
and neurosis with your sandals -
outside that holy sepulcher.
Rest there - while you still have a body;
find space ... enough to accede and receive;
find death with all its accompanying peace
in the happy, carefree tomb of the now.
O child of God, pare down nearer and nearer
to the only One holy, eternal, unfolding moment.