It Is Given

There but a breath from here
Flows the ever stream
Of loveliness.

There in the body
Flows its warm mist,
Delightful as spring energy.

It says without words.
It says
If listened to or ignored.

It says nevertheless
And cares not for being heard
Or even acknowledged.

It is gift
For it is given without clause,
No distinction

Is Required, demanded or extorted.
It is a gift for all,
Without division

Or judgement imposed.
All may quench their thirst:
Worthy or unworthy

Good or bad as they come.
It just comes
For it is given to all.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015

Our Only Real Ownership

Our only real ownership
Is that
found in our senses:
The life owned by our eyes
The tingle on our tongue
The ear’s interpreted vibration
The dream encountered by the nose
The skin’s sensitive envelopment
And emotion’s yoking centrepiece.

All else
Beyond what is physically ours
Is but borrowing and stewardship.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015