The Mother's Spirit Spoke to Me of Love

(Mother Earth by Pennie Austin)

I listened. I cried, I laughed, I bowed, I prayed.

In the beginning of Love was creation and in the beginning of creation was Love. Love and Life are eternal. I look around me with living eyes and Love is revealed. I Look to the heavens, but also look beneath my feet and to that which faces me, for Love is only revealed to me if I view the whole of life, if I Love with the same affections that I grant my belief.

I smiled, I frowned, I grimaced, I howled, I stumbled! I found myself bowing at her sacred feet, bent upon my knees in servitude. I was in motion and I knew nothing…

I knew not where I was because I knew not who I was. Until I know myself, my Love cannot grow. Without Love, the self is too heavy to rise. It is tied to me and everything that is before me. I've trudged aimlessly as I sought meaning, as I searched for Love. I failed to see that Love has been and will always be in me and around me, so I'll reveal my Love before the weight becomes too great to bear, even for creation…

Either I create a loving heaven or I continue sculpting heaven into my own mortal image until I’ve carved Love into my self-fulfilling manifestation of agony.

My deeds reflect my Love.

Yet I wear the cloth of war like a shield and I brandish the mantle of belief like a weapon. I need only act upon what I know in the flesh, the spirit will follow. Allow my thoughts to merge with Love and to be comforted by the only thing I know, that which is beneath my feet.

O! Thought, belief, faith, and my body bathing in the Love of creation will no longer allow me to ignore the spirit swimming inside all living things! No more can I ignore the fullness of Love or disregard my duty to humbly worship at the foot of creation!

Yes. Even before I recognized where I was, the eartH continued to breathe eternal, without my faded use and misspent Love. Move with me my Love. I am in the way of the mountain. The mountain waits for me to open my eyes, for my thoughts to be a reflection of my Love.

Creation is Love.

I spent more time looking up for guidance than I did in recognizing what’s beneath my feet. Bow to that which sustains Love and Life. She asks that I Love. She asks that I worship the whole of Life. She asks that I Love the breathing self, that I Love my awakened self and then watch as the new and fearless me rises to greet the earth.

I have bludgeoned reason and eartH's veins with poison.

I pray for the sacred gift. I pray to the living eartH, to Home, to the breath of Love. My raging spleen has caused me to be blind to my own proximity with creation. It has brought me to rake my talons across her surface with ownership, with hatred filling my heart. Shame on me...

The face of that which I cannot know, who, what, when, where, why and how, should bring me to seek only that which is knowable.

If I am indeed made from Love, the goodness and the madness would have been ripped from my flailing and loveless arms long ago. The Mother is patient and most loving as she breathes beneath and above man’s murderous tirade.

If she were not Love, she’d have woefully dropped the curtain on the Murder Play before the second act grew teeth. She’d have dropped the blade upon wanton thought and the drama would have concluded, until next Love arose with the glint of the perpetual sun.

© 2011 by mark prime