In Your Subtle Magic

In your subtle magic

I feel the breeze of God

Blow fresh upon my face,

As though my heart were dipped in you

And open to receive

The gift of love

In its dreamy magnitude.

Oh, but this is just poetry

And the facts of your warm breath

Are the melting

In the melting,

The dissolution of the self

As one salt drop becomes the sea,

Where worry is made redundant

By the loving,

And fears

Are turned to whispered nothings,

And the heart reins full

And beautiful,

Seeing beyond the body’s boundaries,

Smiling upon the mind

And the thoughts

And the self importance,

Utterly disintegrated.

Share The Light

I have drunk

From the standpipe

Of sour belief,

Constricted and miserly,

Gripping every drop

In an effort to control preciousness,

Becoming a gaunt shadow

Because of it,

For I am a man of this world.

Oh but the world urges to flow outward,

And the standpipe,

Rusty and dripping poverty,

Is but the mind’s eagerness

To hold love down.

For there are some

Whose eyes see beyond the standpipe

To the infinite source,

A waterfall

In which all need

Is foiled in an everlasting deluge.

And for others there is no standpipe

Denying the flow,

Only the mind

Constructing a fictional valve,

Dispensing injustice

And such a limited view.

For energy is free for all,

And you may drink your fill

Until you are full and wholesome

And ready to share

All the light in the world,

Knowing there is no end to it.

The Terrible Speed Of Missing The Moment

The world spins
On instant access

Where secrets
Divulge
In the second of their conception

And news
Burns like star-fall

And dies as quickly
To the black
And old.

And time,
Shackled workhorse
To the mind

Careers
As never should
It fall precious
Past uncaring hand
And fingers barely touching,

Racing
Itself to panting
Wreck and ruin:
All of what it’s worth
Spent
In a flash
Of fast food
And capitalism,
Memorised
Even before
Its moment
Of occurrence
And physical birth.

The future
Travelling
To the past
But heart bypassed
So as not to happen
In the now
At all.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015

Equality

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Whether tended rose, vine
Or weed in bramble entanglement
We yearn the same dream:
And equal upon the earth
Take sustenance
In sunshine on the cheek,
Leaf or flowering petal.
We are the same in love
And level in our needs.
We are not different in our beings
Or our brotherhood.
We are one under the sun
And one in our differing.
We are together in our reach
For the sky blue expansion
Of life’s meaning.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015