Here And Here… Poem by Bengt O Björklund

So lost but not in fear
I stretch for meaning and intent
in days that constantly lace the present
with all immediacy’s nerve,
but sooner than soon is over
the flow is replaced and again:
so I keep on extending all effort
to be here and here and here.

Forced by the do and not,
coiled by the see through wall
between original history
and its perpetual continuance,
I dance to movement of matter
without caring about the ominous
that follow in their wake.