Open your eyes to the floating world.
“See the world anew—the wonder that you seek is floating everywhere around you.”
The Floating World is a collection that opens our eyes to the darkness, light & beauty that waits quietly in the everyday. Seraphim George writes with luminous simplicity, drawing inspiration from fleeting moments: sunlight glancing off water, the hush of a shoreline, the darkness of watery grave, the unexpected grace hidden in ordinary hours. These poems remind us that the world is alive with mystery, fear, and beauty if we only pause long enough to see it. A book for anyone seeking wonder, renewal, and the courage to live awake.
Pointers
Jump left. Turn right. Now run
along the russet shore
where wood meets gilded fields.
Their masters run behind,
blowing into wind the whistle calls.
They follow
spotting birds
escaping
into aromatic sunset smells
of earth tone tamarack.
They run, ears flopping,
palpable excitement
galloping like horses.
They stop. They point.
Good dog.
They wag their tales
and run through endless
sunburst possibilities.
They are confined by rules,
calls, commands,
but I envy them.
They are free,
bound in chains
among their masters.
I long to run and catch birds,
to be free.
Phoebe and the Naiad
Two moons float
upon a mirror
filled with gloaming stars,
scintillate
to set the course
of another night.
One, a naiad
lonely on the mere,
like the mariner
and Coleridge
she contemplates
alone,
half-hearted
dips her head
in search of Phoebe,
where she saw
her gazing back.
She keeps looking
pertinently hapless,
drowning in
an eidolon
of mist, a Carmelite
in de profundis
silence.
A Love Poem
They say that we are not the same,
that your life and mine will be lost,
that I am nothing, and you are everything,
that two such different persons cannot love.
But I will not forget I loved you once,
that you will love me still,
and I still long to die within your arms.
I cannot comprehend their judgments,
their cold philosophies, rendered meaningless,
undone by first love's light.
Together we should confiscate the present
from our enemies, escape to dwell
where none can judge,
where none can say it isn't true,
where milk cascades from skeletal goats
and honey from the rock.
We must flee, exiled from the world,
to where there is no law,
only love.