In the calculus of now, nothing can 

be learned, no process to create       

a model of some A plus some B

or some A minus some B equaling 

a definite C.  Taught the way poems

and plays and stories teach that impeccable 

cosmic logic beyond the realms 

of logic though with the certainty 

of conclusions.  Who can say how now,

with its delightful, insidious results 

comes to be?  Not me.  I can say,  “This

is this and that is that” but know nothing 

of how I am in this moment, know there

is no way I could have predicted

the certainty that is occurring.                             

Not that I believe in some divine plan,

but I do believe in some divine mystery

that keeps seducing me into here

and now and the next moment to follow.