Don't Shoot the Messenger

The sun’s in my breath, the moon my rest, as I wait for the next. “Who am I?” …I asked again and again until it became my prayer…

By getting to know my self, who I really am, I naturally moved toward Love as I saw fit, not something else trying to make me believe the same as another. Belief is supposed to be private, coming from within to my thinking and out to my actions.

That’s what I was waiting on, something was coming, and my instinct assured it.

Was it me or was it the collective spirit? I took love from another and left with their love for me in my possession and off I’d go to the next, not knowing anything really. I couldn’t make it out, until I could…

I don’t pretend to have any or all of the answers, I believe I’m sharing Love’s new covenant.

But isn’t that up to all of the spirits of Love’s desire to unite?

I’m just now learning what’s beneath my feet…

Love and I are wed to one another by default. Marriage is a contract between me and Love, plain and simple. Love is my only bond to the eartH. Love, for that matter, is the bond of everything and all, and if that is the case, I’ll receive some and give back so much more than that.

The only competition among fearful beasts is that of ego. I was not such a friend to the church, I was foe to those who’s belief I would sometimes trample upon as if I knew more than they, those who’s whispers now prick my newfound instinct. No more.

Mark, this is nearing the part of your belief that is urgently asking for more time…

Yes and the last time the traffic roared it seemed so much nearer than the other noises, but the “sounds” are the same song that have been playing for an eternity. I pray without an nth of confusion for what it is I need do, however it’s the answers to those prayers that seem to stump me. Belief can be dangerous when it puts weight upon the hands to do further damage to Home…

This is paradise, how else to make a chart of Love’s dancing music that now plays as symphony to my made for television script, the grand battle between sound and noise…

These are becoming commonplace, these, my truths stemming from my hands, but if I am given time to create an opus that brings belief to the next level, I’ll react because motion creates. If I truly believe that I can create Heaven beneath my feet, I’ll leave the rest upon the mounting garbage heap that was my thinking. I want to seek for that reason not war for that illusion. Truth is not mine to imagine, Love is mine to know…

Love, God, Elohim, Jesus, Allah, Buddah, Ghandi, Christ, Mother Teresa, myself, etc, names matter very little in the end, it only matters that I recognize my failure and want nothing more than Love, not for fear of an unknown outcome, but as a personal fate. Don’t get me wrong, I own the things I’ve done of my own accord, but I do not own this moment or this one or the next, I can own it, as in make it mine and craft sweet Love within it’s every word, but it is not mine, it is God’s. The next thing I would need to do is remember the lessons I’ve bumped up against and recall the smile in Love...

I can summon my own demise and make it unhappy or I can begin to recognize the truth that rides beneath it…

I spent lifetimes of effort raging at the dark, fuming in the shadows, only to be slack jawed by the next frame of truth. There’s a lot of truth packed inside of truth… and it’s indivisible…

End all wars. Scrape the filth off the hills and mountains and valleys and rivers and streams, and oceans and parks and forests and soil and all and everything and come with all of the hope that I can muster to have ever been lucky enough to have dreamed…

The droning arrives again, as if it’s known, my gleeful tumble down the pathway to and with Love. She is my guide. She’s been leading me beside the still waters of my mind's eye…

Where from here? I could go back to what and who I had become or I can imagine that I’m taking the eartH back for God. The eartH had become the hell of my never knowing, until I decided it was time to Love…

Did you think I was just kidding? Did you think I was insane? Did you think I was unaware? None of these questions are relative anyway, because they’re already answered, they’re rhetorical, not fact or fiction, just worth more than my indifference…

I will come with you if you forgive me for not feeling worthy of the honor?

Love, peace, joy, gladness, stewardship. One.

Echo…

~

Would you not stumble in like a frightened deer to deliver such a message?

Don’t shoot the messenger comes to mind…

(Silence…)

~

The bypass traffic sounds like a distant world existing just within my reach if I want it…

(Silence…)

The sun is shining just behind me, bringing with it not one shadow, yet fear waits by the wayside for when I need it…

Love doesn’t need to wait, Love is all and everything in your belief, so hang on tight, Mark, this is for eternity, to cleanse your mind of anything less than Love and be overjoyed and loving for the rest of the nows…

She begged me to listen, so I did, and only after she gave me several what fors did I find my footing and realized that I am being pulled gently along. (Thank you.) I soon saw myself moving, I went with the flow toward something mystical just outside of my perception and it placed me in situations that have been both wonderful and fearful. If I turned away from the spirit of Love, I’d have been left with only my fear of the unknown unknowable and I’d feel more like a spirit of greed. No, thank you.

Spirits can be much greedier than even known if Love is taken out of their worship and they’re left with doom and gloom. The words of Love for fear’s sake in these many words are failing to please even me. Begin again and pray I remember what it was that I did the last time, and change course, that I might help right the eartH and breathe love into her and breathe and love and breathe.

Isn’t it always time to be finding out who I am if I don’t know?

~

I took her love and walked away with it! No soul deserves to have their love torn from out of their grasp again and again, and then to again vanish at a late juncture and miss it right before my eyes, under my nose and beneath my feet.

You are the one, the queen of Heaven, I, thy humble servant. It’s time to allow the women and Mother eartH, to lead me through the instinct of love…

~

In this belief I see it ending several ways, but always and evermore to be the heaven of my making. If hope is expended with the eartH, Home, and she cries out for me to save her, I’ll come calling, roaring with love…

I’ve so much intuition blazing that it gives me pause before soaring and praying. I must ponder what I feel, not what I imagine I feel. I cannot imagine for another, but I can feel for another, I can have empathy for another living thing…

Truth was stamped in me beforehand and it’s always been. My brain brought things upon me, what I think, what I pray, what I say and what I do. I’ve thought it all wrong, I’ve come to “know”, and, what I “know” is that my belief can never be that of what I “know”, but only that of what I don’t…

I thought you said belief, in the end, became the truth?

It becomes true, but I never said that belief was truth. It’s just a creation of what I imagine to be truth…

~

The ants go marching one by one, one by one, by tiny life so tall that I began to grumble of greed and want and murder and lust and war. Everything is roaring. Something is either found to be real or found in the imagination, yet set to unravel. I was the fortunate one at the end of this wish.

You two are free to be now.

What?

You and Love are free to be.

Oh. But what of-

Hush for a while, child. You can always write, but you can’t always think correctly. You’ve lost your instinct as an animal and you couldn’t smell your way out of a field of garlic anymore than you can escape eternity. Newsflash! You’re in it!

~

If I know that it’s not mine to turn, I don’t turn it.

The birds chime in and I’m back in…

Getting to heaven from one moment to the next moment is my humble duty and pleasure. I cannot enter my Heaven until I rid my “self” of all negative spirit, mine own and those I took from others as they received suffering from me...

I am a man who has been swept away by Love. I love my wife, Michelle, my Silent Beauty. We love our daughters and our grandson and our extended families. Real, or not, love is what we’ve chosen to do. We’re inside of this dance with our desire to believe the loveliest of beliefs we’ve ever dreamed of.

We are believing beasts at the core, it is the thing Love desires. Maybe I missed the memo?

~

I love. I love the simple to the strange and the truth to the truth, for they can only be the love of all and everything. I’ve not much control over it either, but when I arrive on that plain of existence to face the unknown unknowable, I’ll take its hand and dance, because I’m the only one that imagines my belief is Love, as far as I “know”…

Move over and let womankind nurture for a while. I’ve plenty of work to do instead of mock the beauty in that.

I can imagine that this script must come to an end for the collective spirit has to begin the long walk back. She just wants to tell me that I’m moving on up to have my belief rendered and that I can still raise my voice up, the spirits have been trying to tell me and I’ve just come around to it…

I love you, all. I weep for the eartH under my thoughtless stewardship. If I hold her most exalted among my personal beliefs then the second I open my mouth, Love. Am I right?

~

There’s a rumble heard on high the lonely mountain top, remaining until nature says otherwise. There’s a multitude of swaggers that are not mine, per say. They’re the joy I had of spirit dancing.

What my spirits garnered from another has left me to call foul. There’s too much me and I. I don’t need anymore of this swagger come lately. Of course, I might have imagined it?

Where’s the outcome of a dream mixed up inside of all of that? I should be encouraging children to remember their dreams. It is my actions that have stood in my way. Love weeps, Mother cries. No more…

Love is set to land nearby soon and she’ll be placing joy upon the world. I do good, good will come, I do bad, use fear, or do wrong, I become fearful. Fear isn’t part of Love, Instinct is. Forget what I can’t possibly know and do what Love demands of me…

Love, I beg of you to come around. My fears were great, my numbers, me, all of the spirit I ever affected in my lifetime. This lifetime, not all those others before I imagined anything less than Heaven beneath my feet…

I’m being selected. I’m the latest product labeled caution in my ever expanding slough of the misuse of my thoughts.

Bang! Oh no, he didn’t? Oh, yes, he did. He blew through the roof like a mighty and fierce wind and began to shift his belief onto the nearest shelf it would fit and just enough that the neighbors might understand that they need think of it themselves. I hope that all they witnessed in my belief and actions was love, peace and joy.

HeartH, Heart and Home. If I were not beholden to the eartH in the flesh and bone, I’d be too damned busy asking directions to peace from a “God” I made up along the way through my dim wits. Dim, as in darkness…

Get out of the glimmer of what I think of Me, the I seen by Me and the Me seen by I. Think of it as a mirror held up to lifetimes. Do I imagine for a second that the way to make this Heaven is for everything to be seen as equal, if not I will need repeat this again and again and again until I know that my head wasn’t altered from a head injury. I was always the one that drifted about in a furious fog or a merry mist, ever-changing from sadness to joy, from desperation to jubilation, all in anticipation of a future exhaustion…

(Silence…)

© 2012 by mark richard prime