The Present is the most assuring brook of all. With it, flows this poem:
With my galvanized mind and abstracted heart,
I followed you in search of an art.
A burden of past that anguished my destiny
was causing me pain in unbearable density.
Without a moment’s hesitation in your way
I believed in you and your say.
You appeared as a bubble of hope
for I wanted very much to cope.
Then you popped in and out of me
to show me the bitterness of reality.
Living in the happened past was unfit
but in the future – isn’t it wit?
There’s a brook that flowing beneath me,
it is present to carry me away.
Shouldn’t I fall?
One leg is in the over, and one in the will
but I know – this water is my pill.
It takes me through ferns and mosses and stones
and I promise I shall never moan
Because with it I get silt and sand and a hand
that can hold me, that’s all.
Its presence is my messiah.