Okay. She’s my Love. My Love is my Love. She is what I must hold most precious, woman, mother, child, womankind, childkind, eartHkind, mankind, humankind, kindkind, motherkind, lovingkind, laughingkind, all kind. I must produce Love before I begin to produce life, otherwise what’s the point? My Love had come out all backwards, like a book meant to read that way, from end to beginning. I should be on the eartH without shame, save for the shame of how I've treated heart and home. What I do in this world is mine to choose. I've chosen to hold the earth as my heavenly home, in reverence to her Love...
Be humble, Mark Richard Prime. Bow to Love’s eartH, there is no shame in it.
I believe that there is only Love, Love to be found when she isn’t too busy cleaning up my foul use of her loving ground. I am guilty as charged for treating my Love and the eartH as if they were expendable flesh and spirit, she is the one I owe my allegiance to, it was hers to begin with, and she shall have it.
From the masculine and feminine sides joined as one in harmony with the whole of Love, the only perfect union, in the soil and water and air and with my wife and children and mother and with her mother, the grandmother and great grandmother, daughter, sister, niece, aunt, father, grandfather, great grandfather, son, brother, nephew, uncle, family, humanity.
Life is not perfect as we define it, it is perfectly ever changing and moving toward Love. It was my thinking that brought agony upon my head, it was and is not Love's or the eartH's, it is my own idiotic lunacy made up in my head. Think more, yap less. Think less, be more. Be the other half of Love's equality.
Think Mark, don't use your brain for your imagination, instead use it for your reality and to help cleanse the abuse you've heaped upon the eartH. The medicines are given to you by the eartH, by Love, to keep you from becoming a parasite to the host, the heart of Love. They are meant to keep you from turning away from truth and are the medicines you need as a thinking beast, to be human again and be in harmony with existence.
Yes. I think the medicines, though not necessarily meant for all, are the cure for what ailed my mind. It is medicine for me and not a drug. It is my method when my thinking has failed.
It’s rather simple, I believe I'm here to worship and care for mother eartH without man's flood, and to care for the mother of flesh and bone and all of the children of flesh and blood. I think that I must survive in harmony or the eartH will say, rent's due. My Love is wed to Love and my Love is wed to me which is wed to all there is and all there’s ever been, but the ending is not possible when I factor in the idea of eternity.
Time is certainly irrelevant, Love is sacrosanct and instead of destroying eartH's visage as if it were not divine, as if it were not my only home, I must cherish it through what I do for the eartH, not what the eartH can do for me.
I’ve been humbled into make-believe’s realization of who I am. Who cares what it means, it only matters that I did not think, nor hesitate to believe that my way is to Love. It was instinctual, it was a cry from the eartH during the course of one night, it called out to me in the mist of a non-ordinary reality inside my sight, my thoughts that hide one from the other, the spirit world is thriving and pleading that I stop my destruction and begin to Love before the eartH says it’s had enough.
I was going to go and go until I attempted the murder of my very home. Guilt held me back. What did I think held me away from what I'd done?
Fear has no place in Love, mine or hers, no savagery, none. She, with her plea to me, to change course before I destroy her. The key is to remember my lessons of this my age of discovery of who I am, what I am and where I am. I am a steward and I am home on the eartH.
I must admit my gravest sin long before I admit all the others. I went about it all backwards, which brought me slow to enter. I landed in Love recently and I’ve been trying to find where in it I belonged. I imagine I have, and I've arrived home. I trust you my Love. Whatever you have to do I will understand, even if it means that I must suffer more. I long to be released into your mystery. I long to be near you and my mind set free of the guilt that I've always carried, too, guilt that swims inside of me for what I've done to you.
Try Love, she spoke. Time is irrelevant to you, not Love. Go to Love, Mark, and bring only your worship.
© 2012 by mark richard prime