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| 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 |
| originally written as a teenager ... |
| (C) Liorah Chanah Elishaba Tsabrah |
| passing over oblivion the power of organized chaos |
| ... |