I don't recommend this, you know, but if you became an editor, you wouldn't have to drag me into this every time.
I only found one thing puzzling about that wonderful poem. It seemed to be talking about an “only now” philosophy of life but looking forward to some “future.” How is that possible? You cannot have both, can you? Plus, in Western society, that “only now” attitude is predicated, about 99% of the time, on a desire to escape some reality in the past which, the Stoics and others tell us, you can never truly run away from no matter where you go in time or space. Again, “only now” but concerned with the past.
Poetry is always about three things: words, music (rhythm) and philosophy in some form. Placing them all coherently in your own mind and on the page is how you arrive at magic. It is rare but it is supremely beautiful.