Only in this moment are things not as they should be:
Soreness for no reason at all
Sizzling in between the neurons rising up, rising over
Dwarfed by insatiable hunger,
Rushes of warmness then cool,
Joints made of cardboard,
Ah the stress for having reached beyond.
Only in the past was there no name for this strife:
Some kind of pain condition they said
(A hormonal this or that)
Traumas from growing up the way we did were
Leading struggles to find my way in life
Whilst blooming late after deadheading, letting go.
Only looking forward can bring true hope:
The day my body calms at last
My Savior returns and all is made whole
Weeping ends, eternal Spring abounds whereas
The truth reigns supreme as all finally agree.
But only now is the moment in which I contend:
Living in love with my intended beloved
With nights as wildly structured as the days
And breaths carried between words terse with meaning.
For only in the moment is where we too must live:
Look around . . . is there more beyond the view to
Seize right away with a kiss of sweetness at the lips? Surely something can taste good right now!