“Forever Now,” Ensign, Mar. 1984, 54
Once he has plunged his hand
Into a rainbow—been stunned
At the swim of color on his skin—
A man can never be the same.
He will begin to pray the rain down
At the slightest breeze or hint of cloud
And see for the first time blossoms
Change texture in a day
And not look away.
It was etched in stone:
Eternity is learning
To stay Forever Now.
Yet know, as geese glide low
And lower into the fields
Finding the view diminished,
Near is sometimes too far to see.
A man cannot wait upon the day
That he might bathe in a cloud of butterflies
Shimmering warmly in the sun, soft wings
Pouring over his shoulders like a velvet waterfall.
That could happen once in a trillion years.
Thou shalt therefore ponder:
Is this very hour his last best chance
To watch the wind roll waves through seas of wheat,
Or gaze on glistening webbed medallions spun beneath the dew?
A man may work his welcome on our world,
Or waiting for an endless end may ever wait
And never on this earth confirm that now is new.