Skip to main content

I Am Not a Carpenter...



The truth is very elusive if my hands are slippery from greed. Lifetimes it’s taken to remember who and what I am. First came where I was, upon the heavenly eartH of Love. I am steward in the kingdom of creation.

Where did you imagine you were? Where do you imagine you are? Some holding pen that’s apart from Love or somehow separate from your truth? Everything is a part of love, which means that love is everything and you've spent life attempting to suffocate it one sorrowful soul at a time. Love is your eternal embrace.

Yes. It’s time to grab hold and bring my love out with full force. I used to think this was my belief to shape as I pleased, toward my ego, but I think it best to think again. If I try to manipulate the truth for personal gain, illusory or not, I'll utterly fail. I love because it’s what my belief is woven from, nothing more nothing less, just love. I believe we always forget the life we led just before this one turns up dead.

~

When I believe in truth it's manifested before my eyes in proportion to how I treated and treat my home and another. Heavenly eartH of Love will have nothing less.

I required to know the mess I’m in from my actions and my words and, thanks to instinct, I now know the trouble that I've caused, it’s up to me how much I’m in. I beg of any that I have injured, spiritually or otherwise along my way, to please forgive me, I beg your forgiveness of the spirit that you found me dampen in you. This truth, through full instincts, has reared its glorious head. I know.

Forgive me of all of my wrongdoings, Love already has. Forgive me for having abused any love I had to offer, the eartH already has.

I should have been able to figure out who I was by teaching myself, instead I resorted to asking the eartH "Who am I?" A steward to the eartH of Love, came the reply.

Don’t you know who you are, Mark Richard Prime? You were lifetimes of no belief at all, remember? Now you believe and look what you've spawned, lifetimes of sorrow carved of your thinking!

My daughters need me to tell them why I couldn't love. The stakes could not be higher. My Love was being kept at bay to have love enough to write these words that are not just mine, but the spirits I've touched and that have in turn touched me through time.

I’ve been deceived and I’ve deceived, yet more importantly, I've been blind, so I prayed, “Who am I?”, and through my sightless reach I wailed and flipped it outside in and broke away the dam and then saw that I was left with “Who I am.”


~

Forgive me, I knew not that I was coming, an unexpected spirit found its way in me lifetimes ago, see? I met this spirit again on my journey, it's original man, the one seed. What disappointment to find out my past and realize I've always been an act away from the last.

The truth is very hard to grasp. Lifetimes it's taken to remember who and what I am. I'm a steward of this divine eartH, so the where was easy to map. Who I am isn't as complicated as who I imagined I was. Love, nothing more, nothing less, equal, truth, Home, Love. I ended up in heaven, despite the odds…


© 2012 by mark richard prime



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ROOT OF

"For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs." __1 Timothy 6:10 It is MONEY, not the LOVE of it that is the issue, the true problem. Love, in and of itself, is never a problem, WANT and NEED, or better yet- the WANT and the conundrum of its very REQUIREMENT for our survival IS the problem, it's creation and our blind use of it is logically the ROOT. In other words, let's leave LOVE out of it altogether and deal with the facts instead. If money were not made by us as a requirement for our survival, we'd find ourselves in a much better position to argue of its need and our want of it. MRP Peace and Love © 2015 Mark Richard Prime
........•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...

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