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Showing posts from November 13, 2011

There Is No Death

To each of you, I offer my hand. To each of you, I offer this vow- I will love you as equals, to each of you, a brother, a sister, to me, a family. I’m humbled by you. I’m a mere servant to the deadened flesh and pure worship of the soul, the spirit. To each of you, I give my love that it might, from you, begin to touch the world. To each of you, Love. I offer the fullness of my affection for my brothers and sisters all. To each of you, I offer.

Let us come nearer the visage. Let us ride upon it and startle the horses- The crinkled face of death rears its tiredness like one might recall the death of a child. There is no death in this child. I did away with death. I climbed the vine to freedom. There is no death in this child. Mortality’s face sags with the tiredness that accompanies the agony of so many children.


© 2011 by mark prime

I Will Stay Here Forever

“Keep Love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and richness to life that nothing else can bring.” _Oscar Wilde

I will stay here forever, without the constraints of humankind’s thinking. I will stay here forever, with the beams of dawn to light my way.

My shadows skulk across her lap- she is most beautiful. I will stay here forever. I will love. I will laugh. I will walk in goodness. Permit my song be filled with forgiveness for I’m not worthy of her affections or her reward.

With every breath set to pass, each fondness ready to occupy my veins, every skyline and bridge, all crimson affection, every fiddle, every guitar, every drum, every instrument and rhythm maker that’s set to come laughing, I will remember.


© 2011 by mark prime

The Mess I've Made

I don’t expect the maker to just hand over the keys to the kingdom after what she’ll find when she looks up and down the mess I’ve made of her.

This is about Love. This is about how beloved I’ve held her. She is the most exquisite work of art ever created and I want to dump what into her waters? The one thing, the one gift I should have kept most sacred. She is, after all, my beholden. She allows me my breath for truth and affections and lies and greed and foul uses of the air, tainting the water and despoiling the sacred ground. If my words do not change course, Mother, Grandmother, Great Grandmother will soon lose her want of me, then where will I go?

This is about me and the love of that which is most sacred. See her cry for my attention? She is gasping for patience with her wayward child. Won’t I open my hoodwinked eyes? It is I that she needs. Don’t I recognize her magnificence? Don’t I remember, the long winter nights of well fed laughter around a campfire, surrounded by my fam…

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Have we been hoodwinked?

Do we even know where we are?

Have we plummeted to the depth that’s ready to harvest what we’ve sewn from our indifference?

We must realize our blindness, and soon. We’ve not much time between our venom and her wrath.


© 2011 by mark prime

Cultivate

This is eternal life, it is what we’ve made of it- agony from heaven.

For thinking beasts we certainly didn’t look too closely at what was beneath our feet, did we?

We are animals, instinct, flesh, bone, heart, blood. Thinking beasts have spirits, souls that are waiting to be filled with something other than heartache. Something strumming a string (off you go now), something worth repeating, Love. Love.

That’s it. Now get busy…

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What can we cultivate first? Hate or Love? If not hate, then peace, if not peace then agony…

If we’ve not fallen, we’ve stumbled, and we could only have stumbled before we began to fall, and thus, the eartH, we’ve landed.

Perhaps we’ve staggered and we’re not just yet plummeting out of control, but well on our way.

Raise your eyes to the dreams you seek, lower your eyes to the truth you know.

I believe.


© 2011 by mark prime

Happy Birthday Story

The shadow of the willow tree dances with me. She gently sways next to my belief and she waltzes like no other, track thirteen, all night long she moves with the wind at her leaves like a playful lover, like love without question, love so profound that it feeds the hungry and clothes the naked, a love so simple, yet so mesmerizing in its warless silence.

Oh! Cello, bring me to my thankless knees, let me recall my childhood. Remember the love that floated like a mist over heaven. I would memorize my belief before I fail creation, but belief must go on without me and never surrender! I must remember before I squander my belief, pretending it’s not truth…

Slide me down to sleep, my Love. Bring your bow across your strings like a beautiful butterfly, ease my pain, touch my searing forehead, allow your cool fingers to lay me down to heaven and leave me there with a rush of strings wafting in the dark.

Come morning I’ll ask that you play me a farewell song. I must leave Heaven for a brief…

I Believe - Seek Creation (2)

I believe…

The eartH is not our waiting ground, she is our learning ground. She is eternal and so are we. Our spirits are learning, they’re dancing and evolving with Love.

That which is not of Love, is doomed to repeat itself as if it were a punishment instead of a lesson. We can break this- our cycle of agony, by remembering where we are. If we seek only Love, if we love all and keep the eartH as precious, the memory of where we are will return. When we truly love, our vow with creation comes flooding back so that our eyes can recognize our great fortune.

When we allow Love into everything we do and think, we begin to see Heaven on eartH, our Home.

Prayers that seek answers from the edges of the universe, fly too far away from Love.

If we truly believe that Love can and will heal our sickness, we’ll surely be healed before we surrender to death’s fluttering maw.

The eartH may not turn out to be the Heaven we imagine, yet it will surely turn out to be the Home that is.


© 2011 by …

Seek Creation (1)

“We pray to you, Love, to grant us eternal life for loving you. Thank you, Love, for entering our hearts. We await your return that you will lay us down to Heaven.”

I believe that Love desires that we seek Love. If it, our belief, is to our satisfaction, from page one to the conclusion, and if it satisfies us, and we believe it will please Love, then we should hold our belief as the only truth and prepare ourselves to harvest what we’ve imagined of both Heaven and agony.

Agony is only that which we’ve invented, the rest, is Heaven.

The eartH has our footprints all through it. Did we really imagine it was that complicated, Heaven, some vagueness beyond our sight? Perhaps it’s always been too simple, too unmistakable to see, Heaven and Home beneath our feet?


© 2011 by mark prime