Words come
Definite in the press of his pen
As if his ball point
Calls the very thing
To its truth
And written absolute
And carves a living thing
Upon the mind’s white page,
Then frees it
From the words’ vehicle
So the image
Stands real and proud
And wordlessly
Three dimensional.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
distilledvoice 
Reblogged this on On The Heath and commented:
I’m short of words. Humbled by this kind fellow. Thank you from the bottom sir. Made my heart smile 🙂
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I’ve never reblogged a post before. I just did. Words can’t express how much this means. THANK YOU BEN.
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It’s my pleasure. Well I guess, just like you, I’m attempting to say it how it is. I really have been enjoying your work!
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Oh, wow.
WOW!
Yes, the words come,
and this is the path of their transformation
from words through medium to mind.
As near-to-Truth a description as I’ve ever read.
Thank you.
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Thanks Patrick, glad you liked. Well, we can thank I of July for being the muse!
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[smile] true dat… though, a muse in only so valuable as the artist inspired by them… 😉 Nice teamwork, guys!
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I must admit I am finding the possibilities of the creative to and fro between fello bloggers rather inspiring. Your comments are gratifying and much appreciated. Thanks again.
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Yes, fascinating how inspiration inspires … 😉 Two poems (this one and Heath’s why write?) opened the channel through which words come, to me.
In another sense: I joined a writer’s group last year. Once a month we gather to read our work for each other, and have it critiqued. Which means, of course, we’re expected to critique others. I love how dramatically creation expands when minds interplay freely.
Writing is often a lonely task. It’s good to be reminded, we’re not alone. And better to build on each other’s creations.
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Hmmm… it seems there’s no other way to let you know.
This poem helped open a channel to this one.
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