Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
A collaboration between SG Holter and Elisa Maria Argiro

Hesitating here, silent edge of this dark forest,
I look beyond me, warm in the white fog.
Seeing your heart, now residing deep within
the ancient wood, is to know it is blessed, loved.

Silver tongue resting now in golden silence.
Palms of soul upon moss and brittle bark.
Animal song; scent of beasts approaching unafraid.
Fierce peace. The opposite of a machine.

In the rising sap of silent trees around us,
our deeply beating pulses listen, dance,
smiling kisses at the shining stars, new planets.
Eyes open, anima and animus press tightly
And distance is no more.

"What language is Yours,"
I ask the still growing giants of
Green.
"Silence and its sister tongues
Such as leaves dancing with the
Breeze," they reply within the
Gap between soft sounds and
Softer ones.
So we speak through breaths
Exchanged, of nothing.
Two souls afloat upon the stream
Of Union with All.
What is Cosmos,
But "home"?
Never a visitor.
Never a stranger.
Nowhere has anyone ever been
Lost, or
Away.*

Humming your essence into my veins,
in tune with the wordless languages
of green lives and wind, listening
among delicate flowers, sleeping here
on the forest floor, wakeful and awaiting
the next sound of your voiceless voice,
wind words blowing
through my long, curling hair,
feeling the intention of your
untouched touch,
at home, just being.
Copyrighted by ©SG Holter and ©Elisa Maria Argiro
(as a collaborative poem)
 Jul 2016 NuurSeraph
Onoma
Roundabout--
bottomless,
ceilingless...
yet the well
calls a name.
Who could
mind the
drop, as soon
flying or falling.
Round a pinprick
of light?
 Jul 2016 NuurSeraph
Onoma
Picking up,
where you
left off...is
like dropping
the universe
like a cold
plate.
 Jul 2016 NuurSeraph
Onoma
When life
leans in to
get a better
look at you,
what feels
violating
transforms
into acceptance.
 Jul 2016 NuurSeraph
Onoma
Water welcomes
the body, and
its bodiless immersions.
To weigh the senses
upon weightlessness...
refreshed to rebirth.
Only, bathing in
consciousness is what
creates the water for
rebirth...nothing comes
close, except everything.
 Jul 2016 NuurSeraph
Onoma
Of body, blood
and bind--
breath of light...
foot in front foot,
married to moments.
Crystal and unclear,
perfect pictures
trading places.
 Jul 2016 NuurSeraph
Onoma
If life cannot be
seperated from
death, if it's
understood as
life-death, instead
of life and death.
That's a horse of
a different color.
If life-death cannot
be seperated from
that which has no
beginning or end...
it can as soon be
reversed to: death-life.
In that light, it would
appear--and it does
seamlessly...our
immortality.
 Jul 2016 NuurSeraph
Onoma
Torn Drum
 Jul 2016 NuurSeraph
Onoma
Nightfall at the bay...
humid air cut cool,
body contracting.
Sending suddenness
searching through
ruffled ripples.
The clouds like the
inside of a torn drum.
The size  of sound in
absence...my latest
version of dissolution
vibrates with approval.
 Jul 2016 NuurSeraph
Onoma
Does every
sense perception
dream exclusively?
If so, they're bound
to get lost...and
emerge out of one
another.
Eventually agreeing
to meet at the same
spot...to become
lucid.
Next page