(Rage, don’t you see?)
Yes. But I am not rage. I am not that man. I am Love, or at least I’m supposed to be, and rage is attempting to destroy hope. That man is all of the loving and sorrowful spirit I ever took in or allowed in to shape who I became, desired, or not.
Spirit is one singular thing. Spirit is the one exactness and, as far as my strengthened instinct is able to discern, Creation…
After I imagine that where I am was heaven, I was already dancing with the spirits. (They are me, I am they.) It is one thing to say, “He did it”, it is quite another to say, “It was an accumulation of the spirits within him that truly did anything.”…
Echo…
*~*
(Had you taken only the love from the spirits into the shell of you, you would have seen that the person you became, is not the person you were born to be…)
I AM that singular person, but it is rather difficult dancing with all spirit, not all are as far along on the pathway as I, which flings me back to the man I had become, no matter how briefly. There was more I could have been doing to cause The Mother eartH to smile upon me.
(You’re too separate in your proximity to one another, too connected to self and not enough to others. There’s not much you can do about it, really. You’re a spirit shell and the person you became depended upon the spirit allowed in…)
Everyone will, in their lifetimes, hear the word of Love. Do not let that moment slide you down and into confusion of place… Bring your full love out and you will not lose sight of who you are ever again. You are love! You are love! You are love! We’ve been deceived into imagining that Heaven waits above, when Heaven’s been beneath our feet the entire time, and if not we should act as if it were, for we no nothing grander than the eartH of Creation. The eartH, the Heart of Creation’s center is the source and we eartH’s mere children in the evolution of man.
(Evolution is slow…)
It is also unknown.
(Oh. I see your point.)
It’s happening now, this inundation of love from Love. I had to speak that you might understand. Rest assured, before I did, I danced, yet waited to see how Love was faring with the spirit of Love and Love was doing just fine. So it is up to the collective spirit I’ve accumulated to leave ME, that I might allow ME, who I was intended to be that it might allow me to be an angel among many in the Heaven of my choosing. The “ME” I am, chose Love, Home and Heaven…
You only thought I was that other guy, like I used to assume you were you on your face, but methinks we’re both mistaken.
I am meant to be a steward about to be angel on the earth, I have to accept this, my role, if I expect Heaven to be recognized as good enough for who I’d allowed my self to become.
Oh! My God! It is all upside down! I had to climb my way out of hell having died once before, the unknowable in my mind, before Heaven, bliss, laughter, wellbeing, affection, kindness, generosity, and selflessness! Did I mention Love?
(It is essential that you tell all of those that you know that you understand they’re fellow angels in waiting, but you’re not acting as if you’re aware that that is what you’re meant to be, it is your actions, your “doing” that you are blind to or from, one or the other…)
By releasing these words I am relying on the spirits that I have been dancing with for some time now, 48 years in this lifetime, (2 years to be sure), to guarantee these words and their safe delivery. I’m counting on the goodness within them to craft my path that my shell, along with the spirit of Love, might deliver them. I must treat her as Heaven, not hell. I must bend to her brilliance, her eternal majesty…
(She is Home and Heaven. A union like no other!)
At least that I know of, eh?
(If you believe you know anything, then you should.)
Last day of May…
(What happened to the second of June?)
The unknowable happened. All spirits are connected. There is but one spirit, the spirit of Love. At least that’s what the who I am imagines this to be…
(Look at the spirit as being like gum. The more used and abused it becomes, the more the chewer and the chewed near the end of their use…)
I must begin to breathe… and love and mend and heal with joyous laughter- I must convince her of my use before I can ever convince myself…
These one-liners are killing me! The number of thoughts into each one for me feels like none from I, but too many from ME, the human I was born to be… There are so many unfathomable directions from which the spirit soars…
(You think the speed of sound was fast, wait until you realize the swiftness of spirit…)
I could dance like this all day in belief, but there’s a real world to breathe with, an eartHbeat that thrums for all…
Oldest Brother, we must do this together, all of those who would call me friend, we must do this together. My Love, we must do this as one. My Lovely Angel Love, you and I are wed to one another. We are tethered by vow, held by Love, and meant to speak, one in her silence, the other his rage, yet, what of Creation? Is she not most worthy of my attention, my belief? Then why am I waiting? I must believe in far more than even my spirited mind can imagine?
(You must enter upon Love and cleanse her of human’s foul use! You must begin your journey. You must dance with other spirits besides your own…)
(Is that all?)
Family?
(Yes.)
Immediate family?
(Beyond.)
Cousins?
(Yes.)
Distant cousins?
(There’s no such thing…)
Well what about-
(Love the human race! Love the human race and then maybe you can bring yourself to truly love the eartH of Creation…)
Oh. Family! Okay. I got it now.
(Tick tock…)
~
Are there instruments so bent on hell that they imagine they’ll ever be able to contain a belief in Heaven? It would seem that the plot has lost its mask.
(More like its mind.)
Why the mind, isn’t the plot born in all, key to whom, what and where we are? The riddle has strummed its last and I am set for full love. If I was thinking it was going to be an easy transformation, experience has shown me otherwise.
(It’s going to shock you, your instinct alone is going to be enough to contend with for a good while, yet, if you’re prepared, the transition will be far less painful.)
I see.
(Seek the spiritual pathway and you will be summoned by Love. Seek the way and Love shall find you dancing…)
Yes. Heaven and God, Love, Eternity, the one exactness, is one thing, the union of flesh, bone, blood, sap, rock, soil, trees, plants, wind, rain, oceans, seas, lakes, water and humankind… everything and all kind(s).
(Love.)
Yes. The one word that will suffice…
(What about the [ping] and the [Echo]…) and the dreaded [Silence…]?)
Silence is never dreaded.
(Then, what of (ping) and (Echo…)?)
Echo all of it if you please, the (ping) is to alert you to a fact that even you don’t quite grasp yet…
(Silence…)
~
(There’s more?)
Yes.
(Why don’t you just shut up, Mark?)
There’s too much spirit to disengage without the help of the whole variety.
(I thought you said silence was never dreaded?)
It’s the act of silence that is dreaded.
(It’s actually taking the steps to being able to actually be in silence that you dread, Mark Richard Prime.)
Silence does not equal death. If my silence lends the air a loving affection, and it does, and the eartH is worshipped as most important, then I will have the eternal bliss I seek…
(Then death will be your sleep evermore, unless you choose to love everything and give it away freely. Give your love to any and all stewards of the eartH, outward to all and everything!)
She begs I reconsider my errant path and go with the flow of Love and turn around and show her that I love her and her eternal magnificence. Treat Home like its Heaven and I’m bound to land on my feet…
(Silence…)
Ping?
(No. I got it).
Ping.
(I thought you said (pings) were for when I didn’t quite get it?)
You didn’t, doesn’t mean you don’t at this moment, now.
(Echo…)
(ping)
(Echo…)
(Silence…)
Sleep…
~
I don’t need the shells of those I’ve danced with, I need those closest to me to see the true me. They are the ones who are best to judge the difference. It appears that I must remind everyone of the old me from time to time. I wish it did not have to be so, but, alas, methinks it does…
The me I became is merely the surface of the steward I’m meant to be. Love is that person, not fear. Fear is an awful dis-ease wrought upon humankind by humankind and their necessity of knowing “why”, “who”, “what”, “when” and “how”, when we truly only need concern ourselves with the “where” within our attempt at being content at Home. As far as knowing that such a thing as Heaven is imaginable, I can only believe it to be true without knowing it to be exactness, so I can believe it beyond the shadow of any doubt and create it before my very eyes…
~
Sleep…
© 2012 by mark richard prime
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