Poetry by Peter Zelaskowski
New and Now
The
past,
Not
an overlapping now and then,
But
a then in the form of now.
Images
of then
Merely
today’s mind’s eye,
With
shapes and colours
Instantly
transformed from being,
To
non-being,
In
an instant,
That
instant
The
past,
Which
never was,
And
always is,
New,
Reborn,
Compounded
by the moment’s meaning,
Meaning
growing from a long line of
The
new and now.
The
past
holds
the key to nothing
And
is nothing but
Today’s
new artwork.
The
was
As
it is
Now.
In
the light and shadow
In
the sound and silence
In
the life and death
Of
the ever-changing
New
and Now.
What
of memories?
In
the magic mind
They
do not fade,
Nor
stagnate,
But
recreate,
Assimilating
the day’s new offerings.
Images
of the past
With
each passing
Recast,
In
new moulds.
As
new meanings unfold,
Old
stories are retold
And
life is reborn,
With
the ever-evolving instant
Of
the the new and now.
And
dreams?
The
timeless expression of life.
Art
and artist united.
The
I
As
is, was and will be
Theatre
of the new and now.
And
knowledge?
The
mythological sea,
Farmed
between the lands
Of
chaos given order,
Of
what merely is,
Made
good and evil,
Right
and wrong,
Broad,
Upward
And
long,
In
time.
And
the time is now.
As
fresh water
Streams
Replenish
The
change bound cycle
Of the new and now.
