Living Codex • Poetry • Seed Series
Here you will find selections from a long and ongoing collective poem created by the residents of the forest-focused planet Oraea,
composed through and by the connectivity of a planetary civilisation.
All are invited - and most participate - in adding a 'seed poem' to the co-cultivated, many-fruited, uncatalog-able orchard of shared poetic reality and imagination. Many who send in something are not necessarily poets by trade, pleasure, or regular practice; but anything can be expressed in a poetic way, and this vast variance of voices invites all readers to see this universe as such. As a shared forest made up of forests, those forests made up of trees, those made up of canopies and roots and seeds, those of voices and visions, of potentials and destinies.
Through these words - any words, all words - life grows anew.
Seed 5723803
Love's roots run deeper than oceans.
~ Cadmalos yCahl ~
poet, sailor, carpenter, sculptor, and an explorer of the ocean;
a descendent of Amoran yCahil, originally of Esmariliah
Seed 5777822
Bark hugs its tree.
Holds it close,
fiber to fiber,
ring to ring:
slows with it,
grows with it,
knows with it;
lives connected,
stays until broken,
burns with all the rest.
Bark loves its tree.
~ Cae Ahil Xahil ~
arborist, cosmocist, lover of naturalists,
descendent of Amoran yCahil, partly resident on Yorok
Seed 5754972
Peel my bark
Make me stark
Turn me into paper
Printed mark
Accent mark
Song and language shaper
Soundwaves arc
Lightwaves spark
Meaning into vapor
~ Embrialma ~
composer, carver, climber,
and a Librarborist of Oe Lira Lira
Seed 57575758
When you connect with someone on a cellular level,
the distance between their cells and yours feels far farther than
whatever the distance between your bodies may be.
~ Alat nen Jahji Zoz ~
tisanemaker and purveyor,
teacher and gardener;
sent back from Yorok
Seed 39738021
Every body holds back.
That's my deep-seated insistence.
Everyone has a deeply-seeded doubt, a stark
and stalking secret cynicism of simple death.
Simply that.
Somwhere, for most of us, some cells
are made simple due to doubt.
"Death awaits", they say.
"Why bother? Why commit? Why live?"
So we don't. Or we do, but only as playactors.
Thinkers. Peekers. Dreamers. Schemers. Weavers.
And if we do, when we do,
even then we still hold back.
We do.
So what do we do?
We:
Live, and let live.
Love, and let love.
Give, and let give.
~ Ethror Ree ~
actor, mask-maker, stonemason,
plumber, architectural consultant of Ervisai
this is the only piece of poetry Ethror is known to have written,
a lifetime crystalised into a single expansion of expression
Seed 28973515
If we are all time
and all matter is redistributed
then the first seeds of what we create
lived within even the first quanta
that ever saw the lights of others in the dark.
~ VarSelec vinYare ~
Seafarer and Expedition Chief,
instrument maker, acrobat, and linguist
Seed 175978
Bud grows out to blossom
Blossom blooms into fruit
Fruit ripens up to taste
Taste expands onto tongue
~ Ramoar val Rell ~
designer of manuals, writer of mystery stories,
plant doctor, and wastewater gardener of Aliat Erren