Resurrection Of A Childhood Vision

reverberating
caught from the corner of my eye, many times
space something like static electricity
shadows of shadows of shadows
flitting by so fast, so little, so many, so mashed
into one another
that no
distinction of otherness exists
when seeing
into the light against the darkness
quiet and still, yet somehow flowing bursting full
like a river of no thing really
... focusing, it's all gone ...
and only, when again
without direct intention, tricking the mind with intention
playing hide and peek
looking out sideways, from a corner of the soul
only then, can no thing
be seen
really