Time for silhouettes

The world is mine now
    and yet I am quiet,
        groping but guided
            like a plant to light,
                beyond a dark
                    immediate interlude

Memories dull, coagulate,
    engulf an urgent void --
        senses steel, then catapult,
            rebound, intensely echo,
                writhe, melt, absorb
                    a creamy deja-vu

As the Zen poem questions
    "How does one place a noise?"
The world is mine now,
        quiet I'll remain.