So Speak The Ancients

They speak
As they have always spoken

For in the long lost,
To be man was to listen:

For the ancient’s song
Was to the heart first given.

And in that time
There was no loneliness

For all together
Could hear:

The words brought warmth
To those alone

And feelings
Were gently administered to

By man’s depth
Of understanding.

And fear was diminished
By the mind’s wide aspect

And reach across the heavens
That the free may walk,

Just as self embodied
Walks free upon the earth.

And love was easily found
And so the needs were few

And the people were happy
And the living good

As ever could
The living be

With voices
Always speaking

In kindness decree.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

For Patrick Jennings

An Unexpected Ease

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

A Kindness

To the damaged and oppressed
It lays its gentle hand, its gentle
breath, and asks for nothing.

To the wronged and dispossessed
It understands with a kindly hand
And be’s there without a sound.

To the despised and those dismissed
It offers its warm hand to temper
Loneliness, washing the mind clean

And bringing all to the light of wholeness.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.