Now?

If the answer is always "Not now, hon'"
when is it now? When do we get to set
ourselves down in the moment like the
baby set down in her playpen, a whole
bounded world to explore, to rattle, to
tip, to prod, to pry, to taste, to practice
with gravity and see how it goes? If it
is never now, it is ever never, and how
is that not worse than death, by which
there is, at least, the consolation "was"
to contain a former "is"? What is is 

forever, partakes of eternity. So what, 

                                                             now?