Existence

I was sitting, soaking, in my world
with my limited vision, and the star stuff came
and dripped onto the gelatin of my open mind,
I was thinking, “rack focus, rack focus, what is rack focus?”
A burst, then the outlines of the shapes blurred.
And I didn’t see things, I saw blurry blobs of color.
But I still had thoughts, feelings.
Behind the thing, there was no god, no holy wars, no bombs, doves, or roses,
a quite serene existence, with things happening to happen.

The people were fuzzy, but the things were floating
moving from person to person, and noises
were happeneing, but they were only from
the people. The moving things behind
dripped with a fecundity reminicent
of the stars that operate the curtain
that blankets everything,
and makes us see, the points of the things
behind.

And then I snapped back, my sight returning, and I lost it.
The concerns of look and opinion and fact and religion returned.
Flooding, sharpening, making those wonderful blobs into solid things again.