Autumn flies basking
In the last, late light,
Absorbing the nutrient
Of the sun’s capacity,
Accepting a photons’ score
Of energy,
Recharging in the beneficence
Of a warming and wondrous gift.
Idea number one hundred and fifty-two: Hold Firm
The limited one
Who’s listened and learned
And thought
In all manner of spiralling pathways,
Listing reason, rejection, and facts
And one hundred and fifty failures,
Leading to failure
Number one hundred and fifty-one,
Says: you’re just not good enough.
And chatters, chatters, chatters on.
–
Yet, the one unlimited,
Says: speak
For your voice
Is a voice to be heard.
Go on always forward.
Write with the wind behind your pen,
Unleashing genius upon the page.
Let your life flow in ink
For the joy
Of ideas metamorphosed,
Ideas grasped from realms ethereal,
Buzzing alive in your head
And conducted
Into the matter of the book
That will be read
If you but put your whole mind behind
The creation of it,
Knowing the limited one
To be a friend enlisted,
His chatter a misused tool
Not a hindrance,
His ideas, gold,
If only directed,
His creative urge
Your own wand
Through which the magic unfolds,
Emboldening your life
And the script you must be
To be wholly yourself,
Holding firm to the pen that you love.
Rest Awhile
Come thought,
Dogged and persistent,
Rest awhile,
For you have laboured
And toiled and tried
Yourself weary.
Rest awhile
For there is nothing
You can do,
Nothing you can improve
Or fix or even make right.
The world is as it is
And you are small,
A child in all of this.
Rest awhile
For the thoughts you think
Only momentarily eclipse
The love
That holds you in the world.
Rest awhile
And you will see,
You will feel,
All is well,
All is as it should be.
Love Connects Us
Though the days
Are heavy with loss
And the winter of grief
Holds us too close,
Love is yet
The deeper principle,
For all are borne
On love’s unknowable meandering,
All are borne upon life’s lifting back,
And though we are all
At some time recalled
Beyond our mind’s reach
And beyond the veil
Of substance and reality,
Love accompanies our passing,
Holding our hands
And whispering
That we are loved
And that those parted
Are not truly torn away
But still connected,
Still with us
In the union
That does not faulted
Or ever end.
Awareness
When he speaks from Source
His heart is whole in his chest
And fears do not trouble his thoughts.
Even his troubles are untroublesome
For the Source holds all,
Sees all with beautiful clarity.
With time and memory absorbed,
There is but the now to behold,
A now of infinite plenty
Where he is alive,
Alive with innermost energy,
New as a universal birth.
When he speaks from Source
He stands at the expanding edge of the
Universe, singing the song he is,
Being none other than himself,
None but he who sees:
The very wellspring of reality.
Way Home
There is a scented trail
Waiting upon the breeze,
That, like a dog
You must follow.
For the scent is a smooth ribbon
Of being,
A substance made of love
That calls you by name
And feeds your every need
Until there is only wellbeing.
Kindness flows upon this cord,
Energy to hold your hand
And lead you to effortless life,
A voice breathing away your fears
And calling you to your self,
Your voice,
Calling you homeward bound.
Love
Float
On the upwelling,
The ever pushing pulse
Of love,
For it is yours
As it is you.
Oh, how that intellect
And riddled belief
Tells you
It isn’t so,
Oh, how cold and alone
And desperate
The separate minds feels,
How loathsome life feels.
Yet, still you float
Alive in reality,
The unacknowledged truth
A wedge between you and you,
The truth displaced
By fearful thinking.
Oh, but the truth is love,
The all encompassing feeling
Filling you whole,
A mother to your woe
Holding you close
As the child comforted.
The truth is love:
It will fill you if you but ask.
No Them
Love to the prejudice,
The angry,
The hateful.
Love to cool
The hot tempers,
And the fears of the people.
Love to bind us
And bring us back
To our true mind,
The one mind,
The us
With no them!
Ⓒ Ben Truesdale 2020
The Sun
The sun my heart
The sun your heart
The sun our shared heart.
But one sun
In whose radiance we bathe,
One heart
In which we ourselves are,
One love
Lifting every being
Into life,
Filling every being
With its light,
Carrying every being
Into the whole of its wholeness.
ⓒBen Truesdale 2020
Peach Of Plenty
Breathe upon
The subtle scent,
Allow your lips to linger
On its soft flesh,
Then,
Take a bite,
Chew the sweetness
And swallow the juices running freely:
Feel the plenty
Absorbed and nourishing,
Sustaining your life.
–
Look again,
For the peach is whole,
Untarnished, unbitten,
Perfect in its entirety.
–
Breathe upon
The subtle scent,
Take a bite,
Shortage was just a dream
For the peach is infinite
And you may take all you need.
Feast upon the ever-giving gift
And eat whenever you are hungry:
The peach of plenty
Is always yours.
Ⓒ Ben Truesdale 2020
