Truth is finally coming Home to roost. Truth’s beneath my every move and that includes my thinking…
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Is it possible to create such a loving reality if all else are aware of where they are and I haven't been, then everyone’s waiting on me to come around, to crawl out of the shadows of dread and into the light of a new dawn?
I don’t know it to be true, I believe it. I imagine that it will help humankind realize their reason for being, I just don’t know.
How I picture the eartH is of the utmost importance, if I view it as a holding pen and not Love, I reap what I alone have made in my sightlessness…
I am to search, to bring order, that I may perform my sacred duty while I am here, not to allow the water, the soil and air to be tainted from my foul use of a slowly evolving brain. The key is to produce as much love as I am able, full Love. The breadth of the things I’m not aware of is shocking, even to my lackluster and left-over instinct.
If something’s eating away at me and I’m emptied of even a sliver of fear, playing God could get tedious if all my belief is able to muster is only one son of man…
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Don’t know where it comes from exactly, or from whom or what, exactly.
It doesn’t make you slow, Mark Richard Prime, it makes you prepared. Remember that…
Instinct by definition is extremely vague. …Nature? Please... I haven’t seen nature of the variety that’s set to come.
The last thought that crosses my mind at any given moment, including this one, has a fifty percent chance of returning and I just think it’s a divine sound and I’m willingly plummeting toward it with Love in my heart. Who I am is who I have always been.
(ping)
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Then rise up, by all means! Save for fear and war and rape and genocide and a fetid use of power. Anyone can do it while crafting a beautiful belief. If I dream the most loving of beliefs, then the heavy and love-stained hands of God will fall on me. …The thought turned outward, looking through my addled mind for truth, truth of who I am. The thought, though still teeming with love, shatters the ceiling of my most heavenly affections.
My Love affair with my most lovely bride, and so too to the lovely eartH to tend, to assure she’s not wanting as the next belief is brayed into the next and the next and the next and God must have been exhausted and I graduate with honors and never again fight another for what is believed to be truth.
Preposterous!
Pray tell?
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The bridges, though many of them have all but collapsed, at least had the wherewithal to span the ugliness…
The birds are in synch with my sorrow and my joy. Their song vibrating inside of me with lessons I’ve yet to learn. It is the bird that underscores (in my neck of the woods), the blare of interstate traffic, a disturbing factor for Mother eartH to handle and handle it she shall if humanity doesn’t rise up and greet the day with humility…
Do not imagine any limit to the power of Love, God…
The bird must underscore indifference? The eartH has become a dumping ground and the bird’s song says much if I will simply listen. The wind speaks more like an electrical storm when the instinct’s afoot, neighbors, more a whisper…
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I talk to myself, I talk to my self, and I talk to the self. I, me, we…
I ask who I am and what am I, yet I never question where. And the doozy of them all, why! Why have I become so indifferent to Life and why the wind just paid a stormy visit is up for grabs, nature or nurture?
I am meant to be here at this moment and the next and the next. (Stop thinking so much.) My mom has said that to me several times in my life, stop thinking so much, and in my arrogance I found myself unwittingly moving along Love’s pathway, how many years later should I have waited for Love to reveal herself…
I am in heaven, therefore, so is everything and all. It’s simple. I have the ability to create my own version of heaven, of ever after. I chose Heaven. It seemed the logical choice. I have been transported into Heaven that I might ascend my indifference to the eartH’s prayer…
Why should I wait to pray for Love? I must dismantle my fearful prayers by dismantling the fear from within them. Create a Heaven out of Love and I will have no need or room for even a shred of agony. Rise up for the eartH and Home, greet her with kisses and caresses that she might hold favor for my affections…
© 2012 by mark richard prime
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