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.
energy
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
When We Share
When we share
The truth
That we are free,
We are borne upon the moment
The real-time
Ever-opening moment
Of the universe’s
Outwardly expanding edge:
And there,
We are lifted and thrust
And propelled into the infinite,
Yoked whole
And joined
To who we really are.
Ⓒ Ben Truesdale 2020
Perspective
Whilst watering the garden pots
In the stilling dusk
I turn
And look,
Take in an unexpected perspective,
An angle from which I have not perceived,
And suddenly my breath
Is swept from my chest
By the beauty of the rush
Of plants propelled springward
And joyously becoming
Their exponential selves.
And in that gathering moment
My heart swells
For their vividness,
For the life sweet in their being,
For their entwining and wondering reach
Into spaciousness,
And for the bud of a poem
Born on the sap-surge
Of my lip,
And giddy with the prospect of flowering.
ⓒBen Truesdale 2020
Spring Morning
I step into absolute stillness.
On the horizon
Mist shifts in ethereal veils.
The houses on the hill disrobe
Slipping from their misty dreams
As the sun begins in the East.
I step into absolute stillness.
The oranges of early morning
Warm my cheek and raise
A fresh scent from the succulents
As they absorb the first light.
The stillness pervades
Holding all things:
Beauty arises
In all that is worldly,
Both natural and made
Are vivid in the same way,
Reality seems to have a texture I can taste,
One which my eyes drink in.
I breathe a luxurious breath.
I exist
And I step into absolute stillness.
Ⓒ Ben Truesdale 2020
Alive
I breath in
I breathe out
I feel my lungs full
I feel my lungs empty
I feel the life move in
I feel the life move out
I feel my lungs irrigated
With freshness
New as the spring bathed leaves
Are vivid
Spacious as the spring air
Is light
I breathe in
I breathe out
Life is within me
Life is without
I breathe in
I breathe out
I value the life of my being
I value the presence of my life
I breathe in
I breathe out
Life in its essence is simple
I love the simple essence of life
I breathe in
I breathe out
I am alive in existence
Existence is alive in my life
I breathe in
I breathe out
I breathe in
I breathe out
Coming Home
is when being away from yourself is no crime, and where wrongdoings are smiled upon, attracting no shame.
it’s when Ill thought is not made Ill with thought, but allowed to be but thought in the cosmos of your being.
it’s where there is no requirement for change, for already you are whole, and where need itself is looked upon with equanimity, and even calming is calm beyond calm.
it is when being is simply seeing what is being, and when warmth is all there is or could ever be.
Connection
How would our world be different
If when need arose
We’d but call upon God
To ask for what our hearts required?
How would we change
If this was more
Than fanciful belief
Or a hope derived from pain.
What certitude
Would such a connection make,
Our needs satisfied
Way before they became malignant?
Who would we be
With love’s channel open,
The answers flowing out
As if from an infinite spring?
In The Aching Out
In the aching out
Of separation from the Source,
In that desperation
Of the body without,
Energy in that fraught moment
Disbelieved
And transformed into a mind robbing truth,
The inner sun eclipsed
Until all is gripped anxiety
And the thieving hunger
Drawn from soul
Reluctant in the giving.
In that moment,
In the knowing of that bitter biting absence,
That disconnected fatigue
And adrenal drift of dept,
Caffeine flowing
In the pressured veins,
In that moment
Of seeing the truth of untruth
And the untruth of lovelessness,
The love to flood the self is found,
And all that was
Is warmed
And looked upon
With tender eyes
That seed no malignancy,
Only the simple need
That needs
Parenting
By the blessed touch of grace.
distilledvoice 