Yesterday I wrote a couple of quatrains on "living in the now." Maybe that was a complete poem. It felt complete - in the moment. So maybe what follows is another complete poem. Or, maybe it's a sonnet - spread across 2 days of elastic "now".
It isn't human nature to restrain
our outlook to the moment as it flows.
We need to grasp the complex causal chain,
where it comes from - and then - where it goes.
But all our grasp of when and where and how
begins with observation of the now.