I've not much else to offer in this act of giving my mind away, save for Love. I could go on that way forever as could we all, yet, what would be gained but perhaps lifetimes of trying to reach love and never quite stumbled upon just that? Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Love. Truth. Love. Love. Love…
Turn your thinking to the skies, Mark Richard Prime, only in name (which is nearly nothing) and begin to offer this unknowable existence as love and not as fear.
This conversations's making me a bit uncomfortable.
Believe and remember that what you believe is only entertainment and cannot be known for it is not knowable in the flesh, which is what counts in this time of existence for humankind. Make your belief worthy of the earth of love and you are ready to take belief to another level, another place, truth.
I long to continue this flight with the notion that I am Love, the idea that I am anything less, goes against my self’s better nature. Strike the drum now, my lovely chalice, that we and thee are most divine in belief that is of nothing less than Love.
Yes.
Yes was the answer. Love is awakening in me. Love is infinite. The earth is ours to make of it as we will. Choose.
You have separated yourself from truth. See to it that you choose between the only choices you have, and make that choice count toward love and not human fear.
We are animals that are designed to Love and, therefore, programmed to receive. Sounds familiar… Don’t you imagine?
Yes.
Yes. Love.
Yes. Love.
Yes. Love.
Go ahead and bring yourself to this dance that you might join the loving whole and have, at least, the reflection of your purpose that is equal to love. This is how it stands, I don’t mean to sound unreasonable, but there is a limit to your beliefs, limits that do not cower, that look to humanity, to the spirit for guidance from your beholden, that tells you that you are equal, through and through.
Everything changes and moves through space and time of which I truly know little. I can only speculate, yet I must begin to imagine. I must let fly my tongue in praise of the earth, the one that never asks for rent or bloodshed. Yes. Remember love, so while my question’s go there that I would do the same. Or would I bring it tall, my visit a loving stance that was never wanting anything, but my return to the earth, so to speak, as what, who and where I’ve always been, Home.
I say enough is enough. The time is now to let the flames brighten nearest my midnight, that of my humanness, my frailty, that which has lost its ground and can’t seem to find the strength to dig down deep enough that my love is seen as the center of me, of all, the respirators of goodness that move within everything.
To those that know me, I love. To those I've yet to meet, I love. I'm not meant to ruin things, I'm meant to recall my purpose. To say, I know, is to say the impossible, I can’t, I don’t. And in the flesh I won’t. To say otherwise is to imagine I can truly know anything outside of my tenable existence.
In this unimaginable paradise, you chose to focus on the opposite of who you are and in doing so you unwittingly allowed the dark side, the fears in your most distant reach to destroy the light and goodness that resides in your nearest reach.
I am love. Everything is love, all is creation, without a name or face, the one seed, love, love, love. love, if I choose it to be.
Echo…
It’s me that got in my way. I come with love because I chose to do so. I believe that I am love in the end, my purpose would be worth little if it was not mine to be one with creation, with the earth, with love. It’s actually rather simple, when I was knocked out of sight and out of mind, my sight was turned inward out from me to you to all of my regrets and unanswered stares and sorrow, and now to love...
My thoughts have tunneled forth here time and time and time again until I've come to my senses and see that it matters most that which has been waiting for me, but that which has been waiting for Love. In my belief it is of me to see that it matters least what I believe and most what I do. All, everything, beginning middle and end, and her presence is beginning to dawn upon me because of my dance with love. My belief has been jockeying its way in front of all. The great mystery I’m writing now is that and that alone, a mystery, an unknown unknowable- me, love, existence, the one seed, the unknown of unknowns. There cannot be another way, at least not for me, and since there truly is no other way for me, I must imagine that the earth is heavenly I it’s latest growth, mutated as I am.
Stop! Echo…
Creation will not hesitate to correct the results of my ruinous path in front of that which matters not to think upon or imagine, but I do, and in doing so, I surely remember the way there and back as original man must have known. It doesn’t matter how or why, sometimes one has to see the insanity before they can judge just how aware they are. If my belief rises to the goodness of love, then that belief is good and will surely never befall harm upon the earth.
As a part of humanity I must rise up and be greeted by my prayers and offer joy above sorrow, smiles over grimacing, and love before my beast gives this all away and I'm here to suffer another turn. I will not resist. I will love and love will be my guide…
Guide?
Toward forgiveness and joy and love upon the amazing and heavenly earth. I needn’t concern myself with what might be gained from my climbing further inside of my self, my loving consciousness to secure a belief that I have always been here to be, to love.
In truth, belief can’t hold a candle to an unwillingness to imagine any further than I have. I imagine I’ve more to fathom of that which I’ve yet to imagine. All I imagine I know falls prey to how far I'm willing to go. And I am saying that there is something beneath the feet and it is the only thing I can possibly know with any certainty. Even my certainty of love existing as I imagine is a thought that cannot be known, only believed. Why, for that matter, do I even give it a name or call it love? How better can I explain it without demanding something of you that is not mine to demand or know and still make it sound as if it is true to me?
I was anesthetized by self-ejection, slammed down to the ground and left to my own perception, agony’s reception, and I’ve been fighting my way back ever since. From what start, what beginning, I cannot possibly know. My instincts tell me to love like love depended on it.
~
Breathe. Love. Breathe. Love. Love and breathe, until breathing wins you more time with your self and in turn extends your fate and doesn’t cause your inner beliefs to merely mimic a manmade hell, instead it brings you to one that fits with the whole. It matters that which you as an animal choose to do at each and every moment in “time”. It’s all that truly matters to humankind.
Yes.
Rise up! Forbid the one that’s asked of you that is not Love. Turn it away with haste, it is not your friend, it hasn't your best interests at heart. Thoughts, beliefs, are what you are, my child, and the more you communicate this notion, the more you understand that you are supposed to grow with creation, supposed to dance with the living spirit, not smother them bent on destroying the earth with your fearful grieving. Let her go! You must untangle yourself from fear until fear falls away and you again become your intended use, that of a thinking steward of love.
Despite that I imagine, I am not beholden to that which is in my mind, I'm merely the latest seed tossed out in the sea of what I feel within a hopeless pace, while the remedy stares me in the face.
Amen.
Righteousness is beautiful when it’s based on what and who I've always been and not what I've become through loveless greed. This timelessness, seemingly so, did become me to write these words you now read. Who knows if any of us truly are in control of this amazing creation, this most inviting of an ultimate never-end to things!
Look to the sky and you will never have the truth, so you might as well just pipe down and pray for your human sake that love and the earth are the truth of what, who and where you are. Your small thinking will fall away if you lower your weapons.
Thank you.
You’re welcome. Your humanity has come around at last. It matters not what it is that you believe, it matters what you do. You will eventually soar to your own existence and see that you must be fair, loving, forgiving, warless and profitless and only do what benefits the whole without want.
End your wars. Stop your murders. Stop going the wrong way, separated forever from those you loved, those you love and those you stand to love. Love is the truth of what you are. Hallelujah!
That one rocked my head with a thud come calling home. Woke me up to who I was, a thing without circumstance giving away his mind. The loving universe presses me to its bosom. It can all disappear in a heartbeat if I choose to believe in only gloom and doom and not believe with loving and rational thoughts.
Now! Now! Now! Now! Move your love in ways that honor the wisdom of that which came before, and, if that is the case, won't you need to summon your most divine spirit, the one you've replaced with your foul thoughts?
If I found use in your love, and you found none in mine, I've betrayed you.
Is there an end to this, your corrupting bloodlines now filling you with greed and fear and warring and murdering and such foul use that you can’t even summon the memory of who you were? Come with me and dance with original man! If you were seeking a savior, shouldn't truth be what you seek?
~
Hadn't I better hope that my belief matches my rhetoric, because in the end, I am who and what I am and shall therefore know where I am?
Open your eyes. Make it stick, this photo of the queen writhing beneath your feet.
Original man must have known. I need be thinking backwards and not necessarily forward, I am a mere microscopic generation of something beyond the corrupted human animal scope.
Then it isn't love or hate that makes you do things, it is you. Who you are matters more than what you believe, for only the one seed would know of such a thing. Believe in what you know. Believe not in the word of man, believe in his inner heart, the one free of flesh and bone…
Humankind must reckon with who they are first, and then join the whole floating by in a time and space relation, it’s not science fiction, it’s real, it’s you, it’s them, it’s all, it’s creation.
But what of belief? What of love?
I was talking about Love.
Oh. My perception of things, my “reality”, now imagine that I am correct in my singular brain’s perception and I am on my way back to what and from where I oozed, but from the earth, therefor I am beholden to the earth, even before my cherished beliefs come to dance their words.
Love breaches the walls that hold you away from doing each other in. What you've become is a sickness, a weakness beyond recognition, a human failure to see with your human eyes and hear with your human ears the earth’s plea to you, to your former selves, to rise up with love and conquer your self-destruction.
~
It matters not who begins this course of reaction to the things that give you your perspectives. They will in turn bring you to attempt to have an unselfish dialogue with love, with your self, with who you are as individual beings in a sea of beings in search of who, what and where they are. This alone can reveal the kingdom that is life’s with love to love before your human eyes. Without a Love that resembles the scowling face of war amongst yourselves.
We’re set to crash and burn, eh? I needn't the allusion of hell, hell is human thinking, fears dangling in the middle of somewhere. What of the soul, the spirit? Shall Love win the day? The truth of the matter is that love can be a healer if my beliefs follow in line. Beliefs will eventually fall away as precepts gone mad, allowing me to locate the one self, the single seed. I am as much of love’s as the next person. Love cannot be divided as in sides or depths or heights, so I might as well stop trying, because the love I fathom, ain’t the love I can’t...
It is you that are awakening. It is what you imagined you've known added to what you are, but you'd forgotten. Don’t forget. You must not forget who, what, and where you are ever again. Thinking comes secondary to that. Your imaginations are amazing things, but they have given you your current and loveless dance.
Hell and heaven are solely humankind’s to choose, choices, edit out the woe and agony in your tall tales. The earth is best served if you imagine it as heavenly within your truth’s unfinished tale. Why not? It beats the alternative…
Peace, Love and goodness. Echo. Echo. Echo. Echo. Before loveless, needless, before my fouled up thinking, before me, before word, before.
I'm an animal. My beliefs have become more precious than the truth, more tangible than my only home to my flesh and bone…
Stand up. March against all wars. Stand up for what is right about you, not for what you've become, creatures without a clue of where you're from.
The beast that has at long last managed to shoot itself in the foot. Ready, aim and fire are the three most despicable words known to Love. Love waits for my return that it might nurture me and comfort me, and reassure me that everything is going to be okay. All I need do is love her in return. (Holding breath. Breathe...) Too late, she stumbles on her way and I've lost a loving memory to my fate.
You risk much by putting an end, a period, to your belief(s) of who, what, and where you are. Period and you're off to the races, only to slam head-long into concrete lying beneath your next casualty. You are animals first, thinkers second. Try being humble, respectful, loving and caring creatures now and dance with the others, the one, the we, the who and what you are, standing in your beginning eyes of the birth of your beginning of unknown unknowables...
I carved my belief out of love. Before doing so, I had gotten far away from the truth of where I am, and now I say that it only matters that I love. That I attempt to discern love and it’s universal call upon my home. Through belief, came love, love of all. Love was here pleading I end my stupidity. I suppose then that I do indeed choose my own reality. My thinking required that I stay in motion long enough to fathom my own insignificance to the one incomprehensible truth of the unknowable.
What are the most dangerous two things ever known to humankind? Your brains and your thoughts. Spirit’s been danced nearly to death with your beliefs. Love is calling out to you and will do everything in its power to end this, your failure, with the resurrection of the earth that you should never have mocked or forgotten.
My beliefs must begin to run silent along with the fading echo of fears lament. I can be transformed, made whole again into love, within Love, within the stage of love to hover next, if I'll but care for the earth. I was in desperate need of the other half to bring me to where I needed to be, to me, to you, to who I am, that I might reach reality. Illusion needed me to smile upon its waning that I might reverse course of my hold over the land, the water, the air, and the tree…
How do you change it?
I begin to think with the one thing I know rests within my consciousness, forgiveness. Surely I need less human thought and not more, less human ideas and more love?
I’d say survival is a word I've overlooked. It’s the reckless progression of the whole that threatens earth. Surviving one another is the challenge, I suppose. Humankind has lost control. Humankind’s purpose I truly “know” not, yet believe it is to love. I believe if I love that all things good shall follow. Love and the noise I've made in my selfish times will, in my selfless times, awaken me to who I am.
What’s the point of thinking that reality’s sole purpose is so concerned with humankind? What does it really matter if the story is full of humankind’s claws of rage and hatred and vengeance and wrath and war instead of love?
I’d say a lot is at stake if I choose to ignore my home. It is time to let go my grasp of the earth before it rises up and let’s me know of her sorrow…
Echo…
I’m an individual among a species of individuals residing within the loving embrace of life, of humanity, of who I am as animal, as a species within the ever evolving mystery. And I feigned to imagine it all as somehow knowable. Nothing is actually known, or can be an exactness, when it’s formed of human thought.
The beginning of humans, I’m rather confident, came long after the beginning of the universe of which we are part. We need but reach out with love, reach out with our full love that’s driven by the engine of love, which is love and which is. It cannot be parsed as land or in our measly imaginations, it is that which we cannot possibly know, nor might ever fathom to know in the flesh.
Begin to imagine that this is heaven and heaven it shall be.
I believe that where I am is heaven, and I believe that heaven shall be revealed along with love if I'll but believe while I am here upon the earth. This is simply the birthplace of belief, not the seat from which it sprang.
If I’d offer a guess, there never has been a belief that neared the truth of creation. I haven’t come close to factoring in love, because I can’t comprehend the unknowable unknown, I've enough to salvage because of my thinking which has been in the way of my even glimpsing the truth.
Echo…
The self is a powerful being. It is the only thing that any one of you can truly say you know, your own concepts and ideas of the hornet’s nest of thoughts swirling around in the skull like a pinball game, moments glancing off here and there and never really, truly landing anywhere solid or concrete so that you might truly ever fathom even beginning to know the one truth.
I breathe a consequence that is my own and the outcome is mine to wrestle alone. I should try love, if for no other reason than achieving something worth knowing inside of an unknowable existence. Why not love and leave it at that?
It’s easy, spoke the blooming February tree. It’s easy, danced the Willow with her budding limbs moving belief unto me, unto love, unto heavenly earth, the heart of creation, all else is unknowable, so I might as well construct a paradise of where I am, because the alternative only serves the few and not the whole.
Echo…
© 2012 by mark richard prime
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