In a war
Somewhere far away
And in the thoughts
Rained down upon the body

Something different arises,
Something fresh encroaches:
A broader, slower force
Seeps in like a summer breeze
To lift where there is heaviness,
To cool where there is heat,
To free where is entanglement.

A feeling like a mother’s hand
Gently cradling her baby’s head,
Watching benignly yet purposefully,

Administering kindness
To every need.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015