Those moments

when we allow.

And sometimes indecisions will decide us.

Those moments when we allow, sometimes, all that is hidden.

Moments of all that is plain, and we come to know. 
We came to know, unknowing. It is simple. 
In the suspended step, a flow curtailed, simplicity.

I have come to know and come to be known.

I have come to arrive at this moment, before the knowing, instigated and initiated; the ignited and the engaged.

The engaged between, this arrival at the to be knowing. An interstitial of things, to be knowing. The in between of things dissolving in order to become moments.

The numinous is hidden in the absolute. It is the absolute we face everyday. Everyday time, which throbs with its unwarranted night.  

I know I cannot chase this night. A blackness vanishing within itself. A luminous disappearing act, the swaying feint of the collapse. Time’s crumple zone, a moment sat in amongst moments and the absolute elusive


And so I wait. I wait with the thing. 

The thing has no problem waiting. Delay makes me twitchy. 
In my itch I prod the thing. It rocks back and forth, it moves as if it were a potential.

My great array of things objectively interfere with this moment of waiting. Busily I scratch and call this potential. The itch has a potential for calm, the charm of a soothed moment.

I touch things in their swaying motion.Things rocking back and forth relatively. The shaped oscillation undulates along the length of obscurity. My moment is a line slung from dark and hung in dark and I am unwavering clarity, in between.

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