Wouldn’t you imagine it’s not yours to know? Wouldn’t you imagine you've no more time left to carve out adornments on the side of The Mother?
No. I am a parasite of my own kind, distinct from any other animal on the face of the earth. Water for drink, the nectar of love. I am, in my belief, being summoned, told things, thoughts that find the experience they never imagined…
See? This is still the heart of love. If you had journeyed without hope, without love, then your own writing would not be dancing with the many. Writing that sings humankind's song, that brings you along with me to the visions of you and you and you and you and you and the next generation and the next generation and the next train wreck of belief ever fathomed in existence!
Those that I imagine I see, are so much bigger than I and much more awe inspiring than that of humankind's beast-like love. Oh for the full love of all, the pecking order goes quite high in this atmosphere!
End your pace found in war, in murder, in rape! Your undoing by your own hand is the price of admission to the heavenly kingdom of earth, of love…
The truth stands now at the ready. The path of love can be awe inspiring in and of itself and my rush toward her plea. I’ve been dancing so fast that my spirit has at times had to leave my body and dance in its long travelled elsewhere. Obscure are the words to my fingers that wrap upon the keyboard, typing out the meaning within my kind’s words. I had has lost my way. I was about to drop and give creation 40 for my human-made trouble. Thought? Why must I have thought of only things that were imaginary constructs between myself and the truth?
Whatever this is, whoever you are, love, creation, spirit, original man wafting nearest my dance, I am prepared to face this truth and own it if I fail, but along the way I’ve been dropping hints, to let you know, that I can’t reconcile without knowing when it comes to what goes bump in the night to what goes thump thump through my sleep, through the pain within the rain tapping out a generous beat, asking for more time.
What, more time that the earth might talk itself into somehow never reaching its limit? She is sorrowful! It matters not what you believe! It matters what you do with what you know!
Yes. I brought this on, a steward of love, when it is what I should have stayed and should long to become again, a steward, an angel.
The spirit of love will thank you if you'll but Love. Breathe. Love. Breathe. Love. Breathe…
~
I forget a lot, so excuse me if I seem late in coming, I got the invitation many months ago, but I’ve been busy battling myself. Battling the fearful beast I had become that I might rend it away from my spirit, letting rise the truth of this one man. I choose to be who stands before you today. I welcomed it over a year ago, for love had since moved in. (My first thought was, huh? Me? Ha! Me? No. Umm. Who knows? The next one to arrive with a message directly from Love? Who knows, because, I don’t know…or have I always known?)
Hush, child! Love doesn't hesitate to choose…
~
THAT BOY NEEDS HIS HEAD EXAMINED!
Probe if you will, Love, but know that I believe I am transfixed with the truth and I want nothing more than for all to be liberated from bondage, from the corporate warlords of malcontent. ...I believe it’s been afoot for some time now, this game of cat and chess and love and fear and resentment and hatred and murder and war and genocide and starvation and thirst. Do I imagine the eartH will wait to our desired hour, or do I think she might just have a defense of her own?
Alarms are useless if the snooze is worn to the bone from too much work that doesn't give back to the eartH.
I passed the test. I didn’t ace it, but with the learning curve deducted I soared around uncharted territory like it was a railroad crossing facing my windshield, imperceptible at night, yet quickly moving my way whether I saw it or not. I landed, and in an instant all were there, neck deep in this loving embrace with love, her seductive instincts brimming with affection. They are there and I must reach out for them to come to my door. I too must embrace my title as steward and remember my vow as angel to heavenly eartH. I weep…
Prayers by another name; weep and love and hope and sense and nerves and laughter and peace and breath and praise of life and love and back around again weep and love and hope and sense and nerves and laughter and peace and breath and praise of life and love and back around again...
So, love, came the echo. This is to love, to you and you and you and you, and so on, until it pleases her.
What?
Didn’t think that one needed taller legs than legs tall enough to reach the truth...
What?
Love.
Oh.
~
Forgotten too many years to imagine but flashes of truth, the other side hankered and beaten for not ever having said a thing, the two are reigning as equals that I might etch away all fear from inside a fading belief, truth.
Know where you are, the earth.
My instincts have been telling me to come to her aid without hesitation. She is not able to be ruined to the point of the annihilation of herself, the heart and eartH of Love will see to that, I believe. I pray…
Shh. You’ve thought enough for now. Go and walk, my child. It’ll give that heart of yours some much needed thumps.
Thank you.
Love.
© 2012 by mark richard prime
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