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Love, Have Her See My Worship


Love, have her see my worship and let me evermore remember that I'm a steward. If I come back around again in this our race to truth, then so be it, I will remember my lessons from the earth with which I know or can even begin to recognize my amazing surroundings. Heaven is a word, an emotion in a larger sense, it is and must remain unknown util I can and do again begin to see the basic truths on my way toward the reward of knowing where I am, who I am and what I am...

Rejoice! My prayer's been answered. Let her love you in return that she might offer eternal devotion.

I shouldn’t be flying? Maybe love has no direction, or at least it didn't. Breathe. Inhale, exhale...

It's okay for you to tell me. Otherwise, I'd be nothing to you and you nothing to me. My right as a privileged mug, among billions, don't get me wrong, I've been relatively poor my entire life and where I've not mush to show in the physical sense, it's made up for in my loving belief, as far as I can tell...

Have I, however, ignored God in all of this, my pretense and my lividness, my utter shock at so few I've sensed that did not have an agenda toward my instincts awareness, at no one as of yet coming around to who they are like me and then acting accordingly toward my lovely angel love and home...

~

Oh the robbers with their grave darkness among them and their intentions. My instinct is at full tilt, whether I'm with you or not. The poets behind the words, we, all of us united, loving one another, all and everything, one- might we then rise to behold the earth as paradise? Each and every spirit that is born, can... and will.

Oh! Why did I forsake heaven?

Mark Richard Prime, it is at eternal life that you aim your weapons of war, of murder, of greed, of rape and the tragic suicide of your humanity. Humankind gone at the drop of a bomb. Do away with your foul pride. All other animals use their instincts, yours are numb from foolhardiness, a dis-ease that tries to alter the outcome of truth without the will of love…

~

I just want to usher in a belief that neither aches from loveless belief, nor forsakes heavenly earth…

To those of my friends, my brothers and sisters whom imagine heaven elsewhere, by all means sing it to the rafters, but always remember love. If this is not "heaven" it is certainly a paradise, so be loving, kind, gentle, caring, loyal, aware, thankful, thoughtful and peaceful animals. If it is not heaven, at least you'll have pleased  love…

I waited and waited and waited for something to have the ring of absolute truth, when I should have been actively seeking it in motion.

If your story comes from the earth and begins and ends with love, you've a friend in paradise. If your story comes from a jealous heart and feigns to end love’s earth in fire and brimstone, you've a foe. Love will have none of it because you looked for more in the flesh than you did in the spirit.

~

If the challenge is mine, I'll bow away, if the challenge is yours, remember, I love you...

~

It’s not up to me when life ends or begins. I must prepare to rise up,  love is whispering her plea to me…

~

I thought it was beautiful, my belief. I beg your pardon. I must have sounded crazy to you.

No more than the next crazy.

I love my love's spirits. She is pure, intricate, tough, soft, child-like, motherly, whimsical, funny, lovely, loving, sweet and silent and above all else, a mother, sacred is her place, love is her quest. She is the mother, she's in sync with mother earth. She's suffered because of me, and I had to suffer for what I had done to the love that was given to me without asking for anything in return. Her silence speaks volumes of love and fills mine up with love's joy and truth. I accept her love and defend her love for me and to any she sees fit...

Your courage is noted.

~

My eyes are beginning to close, the wind blows its breath across my ears, love pierces the air. This should be easy. Love is ready. Love will be pleased, eternity waits.

This is not a game. It is an exploration of truth, question it at your own risk…


© 2012 by mark prime


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