Remembering My Lessons

Nature’s night voices enter to remind me, belief cannot cleave itself from the consideration of all life.

O! My shameful use of pride has at last brought me to the answer I’ve been seeking as the night voices pipe in with their symphony of affirmation, arrogance has no place inside belief, for faith should only be driven by Love. An emergent faith should desire to hold its tongue until the canvas and paint are prepared with steady hands, an open mind, the brush immersed in Love.

I ask the night voices to help me remember Grandmother’s lessons, I know nothing, including who I am. Again, I know nothing, including who I am. I know nothing, including who I am...

A hard lesson to be sure is the lesson of an insignificant self. Belief cannot sing, not while the canvas of Love is painted upon with a foul arrogance.

© 2011 by mark prime


Popular posts from this blog


It Is Love, No?

IRAN'S LABYRINTH (A one-act fantasy)