Intimacy
There being no such thing as inertness
For all that is, is deeply intimate,
Each touch a caress of our aliveness,
Unless hypnotic stupor did sedate,
Deadening us to the throb that pulsates.
Subtle vibrations within do beckon,
Oft negated by ego suggestion.
Yet if we be steadfast in our resolve,
Stillness and silence ushers elation:
As dark delusion does slowly dissolve.
14-October-2020
Copyright © Unseeking Seeker | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment