The Poem I Am

If I can write
a poem with a pen,
then why not with a typewriter;
if with a typewriter,
why not a computer?
If I could love as a boy,
then surely as a man
I also can
(I said to myself, way back then,
and it was true).

And all these many things
I have done in my life,
were they not all
(as they still are now)
a part of the growing process?
The drugs, the booze,
the travel, the seclusion…
eventually, the attempted suicide.

Where I am today
is what I was then,
that and beyond it.
Yesterday’s doubts
may not quite be
the certainties of today
(as though, especially today,
there even are any certainties),
but surely they incorporate
into my will towards the future.

I am the sun
and the moonlight surrounds me;
the stars feast
on my dreams for tomorrow.
As the universe illumines me,
shadows of self dissolve.
Whither I go, goes all of time.
Time is forever, time is going now:
there, the computer writing;
here, the poem I am.