If I am to live, I must love, and, by the same token, if I am to be then I must live. That made sense at the time, but then, so did my thoughts, now they’re crashing the gate. If I am to believe in belief, which is, essentially, all I am, I must bear in mind that I’m not alone. I’m supposed to believe without instruction, save for that which is reflection without want. O! Creation! My thoughts are my belief! The world I create must be precious. I am meant to find my own way on the path, the passage intended for all living things. If I am to love I must reward life with my love. A returned favor. I offer all my love! I smile on all brothers and sisters of creation! The heavy gate begins to quake, my mind soars and gives tongue to my belief. Be. Be in belief . The animal in me remembers. © 2011 by mark prime
(The Weaver's Song)