Flame of the Flame

The will is spirit and belief, of which I’ve free rein, therefore, life must be imperfect inside of a perfectly flawed creation, the stone-silent flame.

Paradise is my long road and one I chose in order that I could believe. If the path along the way to my seeking was littered with flesh and bone, piled of horrible things instead of Love’s recollection, I would not have succumbed to creation’s Love. I might imagine a heaven and find myself in fear of its quickening wrath… Isn’t it true that I must believe in something before allowing myself to believe in anything?

I had lost my way in this; the immortal coil. I had forgotten Love and Peace because I had no belief. And without belief, I could not reckon with my own kinship, from the innate and the cognate to the primate and the incarnate. I must reconcile the suffering within me and make amends to those I've hurt and make amends of that which is not mine, outside of self and the machinations of me.

In order for my love to subsist, in all of its forms and in all things, I must surrender to that which I cannot know. Surrender, not to the “knowledge” garnered from my human mind, but from that which grows out of seeking for that which is unknowable.

I’ve done just that and I am reaping what I alone have sewn, what I alone have caused through my non-belief. Call it disbelief or dis-ease, but I have, for far too long, greeted another’s belief with self-erected flags, walls that shroud the idea that I seek truth in my own way, believe for my self, free will. Therefore I will deal with any destruction of the individual spirit that I may have caused when I could not believe what I was hearing with my ears of disbelief. I will reckon with the damage I personally have done to my fellow kin, my brothers and sisters, the family of man, that which I caused when I brought down fists upon their doctrines of fear.

Indifference chokes on its own heavy air. I cannot be without belief and Love, they are the sustenance of eternal life. My own rage, my own pride and greed and want pushes the seeing of my heart down into the void of sightlessness. I want my spirit to dance with the spirits of those I've affected, of those I’ve hurt and those I've touched in kindness. I’ll make sure that my love honors peace, like noise honors war.

Belief needs to dance with love in order that my animal not succumb to idleness, both in thought and in motion, thinking and doing, being and believing, dancing and searching for my own individual truth and the shared spirit of Love.

Truth might in the end be unknowable, but, if I can engage the spirits that swims all around me, around the world, then I must do so without disbelief. If I focus only on the flames flickering before me and ignore the myriad of nuance within its dance (the flame of the flame), then I will do so without belief and without Love. If I truly see the stone-silent flame glistening before me, small to my corporeal eyes, yet large to my spirit, and if I engage the spirits of my fellow traveler’s, engage the soul in all living things, I can then realize that my personal anger (disbelief) cannot teach… it can only instruct.

© 2011 by mark prime