Skip to main content

Strike The Flame That Lights The Heart


You were brought to me. I was brought to you. We’re set to deliver joy light up the world!

Come! Let us encircle Love and bring our hands out to Love, to Love, to Love, to Love, to Love!

Let us reserve our legacy to the one of Love. We merely need reach out our human arms and embrace all as sacred and beyond our reach in the flesh, so while we’re here lets assure my grandson of having a reality worth sharing. Love her quaking limbs, love her roiling waters, love her slipknot winds, and love her grace under attack.

Stand up and speak out! Use your voice to make a difference! No more division among our brothers and sisters. Love prays that we heed her soil, her green and blue and space and laughter and joy and children who are warm and safe and see her affections dancing freely among spirits that should have loved instead of warred. That should’ve remembered where they were over where they dreamed.

You, my friends, were brought to me and I was called to you, so, to you I strike the flame that ignites my heart and begins my walk with goodness, my life in Love and my remembrance of where I am…

You were brought to me. I was brought to you.


© 2011 by mark prime


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
........•SHRIEKING MACHINE•........                  •HEAD-LINES•                           •RIP•     ---(“Russian missiles blast Ukrainian military academy and hospital, killing more than 50, officials say”)---    There are no more lessons to learn here, no more beds to hold the human wounded, just missile’s shrieking their grotesque ode, The Death of Humankind! RIP, children of God…    ---(“Hundreds attend Mercer Island vigil, march for murdered Israeli hostages”)---    Dear mourners, this is the brutal vacuum of a genocidal, terror-filled, indiscriminate war-machine made of fear and we are all hostages to its deafening roar! RIP, children of God…    ---(“10-year-old allegedly confesses to fatally shooting 82-year-old man and his daughter”)---    I must confess, this is part of war’s shrieking, children lost with a we...

FAULT METER

FAULT METER    When you get a question wrong you will hear three loud beeps followed by an even louder ticking of a clock.    (Like tick-tick-tick-tick-tick?)    You are half right.    (Like tock-tock-tock-tock-tock?)    You got two halves of it.    (Then I give up!)    You do?    (It ain’t out of weakness, it’s my adhdad.) I understand.    (You understand what?)    That it’s not out of any weakness on your part.    (Weakness, on my part in what?)    Never mind, it’s definitely adhdad.     •    We float, we fly, we soar! We find our wings in each other. We find friends, cousins of the one seed of existence. An existence which never began, but always was, that loves us enough to provide life’s needs, our own, the same. A collection of living peacekeepers upon the surface of the most heavenly example known to them. • © 2017 Mark Richard Prime