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Love, peace and goodness to you, yours and the (H)eartH...
(The music’s changed. The serenade with love has lost its smile. Love’s pleading you awaken from your slumber and join in life’s loving dance. Cease your warring! Cease all sense of hatred! Bow to what you know!)
(End your captivation with fear and return it to its original love, steward of heaven. You, an angel who has forgotten where you are, forgotten your use, save for that which you imagine and therefore create on earth, hell rears its ugliness.)
(Hell is man’s, it is not God’s, it’s humankind’s reckless thinking, humans who need to look all around them, under their feet, above their reach, and inside their heads, find their love and give it to everyone and every living thing, and remember who, what and where they are, and never forget, again!)
(Hell is what you create if you allow your love to end its dance with all of life. Nothing less than love will do. To say that you’ve found God is wrongheaded, it should be, God has, at long last, found you…)
I believe that Love and God are all there has ever been! Love and God are all around and inside of me. Love and God are everything, so it stands to reason that God’s not going to allow me to destroy the (H)eartH of Creation.
(Do you not yet know Love and God? Are you as blind as this that you would attempt to destroy the very Heaven you believingly seek? You have to look deep inside of you and find yourself, find the animal in you, find the instinct, Mark Richard Prime, and, without hesitation, remember the Truth. There is but one, and that one, you’ve decided isn’t within you to imagine without the stench of fear, without the agony of hell. Humankind doesn’t know anything other than what they conjure from minds that have been forever trying to create something greater than God, and they find themselves far short of where they‘d long to be.)
Love and God merely want me to be thankful for what I’m allowed of the Heart of Creation. Heart or eartH- (how could you have been so blind?)- however I want to spell it, it spells regret for humankind’s foul use.
Oh God! Have I not suffered enough at my having forgotten, at my having desecrated your Heart(H)? Please come back and save me from myself! We know not what we’re- (the wind blows through the sleeping Willow and she sways her hips to chance and watches as she dangles there with Love) -creating!
Oh! That’s genius! Love gave birth to God.
(No one is the wiser until they seek inside themselves, not from a book or another’s words or ideas of another, until they find the very thing they seek, God‘s Love. Love and God are synonymous.)
(Love, Life, Freedom, Kinship, Family, Humankind, everything, save for what humankind has wrought, what they‘ve imagined themselves to be other than servants, is God.)
My thinking is my own. I suffer because my thoughts are not of Love and God, I cause my own suffering. Oh! I am a child of Love’s God and God’s Love, all and everything…
(You want to make her happy. She is your angel on eartH and the eartH is in Heaven and the (H)eartH of Heaven is the HeartH of Love and God! Rejoice!)
Go to Love with haste, drop to the human-stained ground, and, upon your thankless knees, beg she release you of your bond with the self that she and God might find you. Humankind’s love of self before the spirit, with greed, war and pity, will have us removed from our suffering and into ever-sleep. No hell. No memory, no point, no need in their love, no love in their thinking. Tragic.
Too much suffering is not Love or God. Love and God are life and life is the perfectly flawed perfection that is Creation, that is Life tumbling out before me that I might create my own Heaven, (or my own hell from out of the ashes of my sightlessness), therefore it is paramount that Humankind remember that their purpose is to imagine the most loving way to worship what they know, through their actions and not their beliefs.
Motion creates, begin moving with intent, with the grace afforded an angel. This world- GodLove’s world is designed so that we think of our fate and where, who and what we are. Our greed over Love, over all of Life, proves our affections for God, for everything, the beginning and the never-end. GodLove help us help ourselves…
(Rise up and demand of your self that you begin in earnest the willful and peaceful rescue of the heart of Love. Never-end until Love and God say otherwise, and Love makes it rather plain to me and to you if we’ll but cease our noisemaking, that God says otherwise, too…)
Yes. We, all of us, can hear the voice of Love. All. The spirit of Love is within all of us and we can hear it as if it is our own, as if it is God through whom we pray. We are the children of Love and God. Life is GodLove’s eternal wisdom… we‘ve none, yet. I do not know. I believe…
(Humankind cannot imagine GodLove, yet, is not GodLove also the Heart(H) of Creation, the eartH?)
(Is GodLove not then your belief?)
If that were true, it stands to reason that GodLove is also you and I, products of creation, God and Love.
(What of the products of humankind?)
They’ve proved useless to God’s heart. They’ve stained the breath of God, they’ve spoiled the nectar of God, they’ve chained the heart to greed and brought humankind to forget what’s beneath their feet, forget that they’re failing to love their beholden, God’s heart, heaven, where God is in all evermore.
(Be in awe of what you cannot know in the flesh, be in awe of God’s artwork floating overhead, flowing with the river and ebbing with the seas, flying, like the eagle, swimming the breath of creation over all, everything made by God.)
God’s doctrine isn‘t a word, humankind chose to call it love for lack of a more satisfying term. God‘s doctrine, then, to humankind, should only contain one word. Love. Shall we then, for the love of God, begin our fearless journey within Heaven?
God loves that we laugh, he invented laughter and tears and mountains and fears, but his children, all that have ever been, have become cancerous to Heaven. Sorrow billows from God’s sky like the feign of winter as we used to know it. It, the Earth, as we speak is healing her wounds of man’s filthy paws! Pray you’ve time to continue to bray at the top of your man-fouled lungs! Pray! Pray! Pray! Pray! Now before the cello plays its last note…
I am ready my friend. Let us begin this dance of love. I will tarry no longer in search of truth, it has found me. God, I want friends, who doesn’t, but those that I’ve danced with, and they know who they are, and those I missed even as they reached their arms out in need and I found suspicion tapping into my welcome home party, all due to me not understanding what’s been happening to me and-
(Hush now, child. You’ve said enough. Might we talk awhile?)
© 2012 by mark richard prime