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IF THIS IS YOUR BELIEF, LOVE, I’LL GIVE MINE TO YOU EVERMORE…


Oh Love! You are here! Where have I been all of Life? Did I imagine this world at war, this world colliding with its children, its offspring of belief and flesh without sufficient Love?

I admit that belief and God and Love are merely constructs of our thinking. If we think we’re set to be in Heaven while believing in hell and damnation for eternity, we need see that that is no different than implementing peace while waging war.

(Think! Think, Mark Richard Prime! Think upon your belief and imagine you are in Heaven already… and evermore to boot, and then imagine for a second the literal joy you dispersed with too little affection compared to the fullness of Love you ever managed to be summoned from your joy…)

If this is your belief, Love, I’ll give mine to you evermore…

(What? A wee bit of fear bubbled up in that, Mark? Let’s not forget how difficult and serious you’ve made my mind beneath your fearful affections and instead of making the spirit of Love, that which is in us all, rise to the occasion of suffering no more, eternal bliss, you chose to wage war…)

Love! I will find the passion for Love and Love and Love and never stop! The day Fear wins is the day agony rears its head, like now, like then, before Love came to the rescue! Love is the savior, for with Love comes Love and with Love comes Love. Fear should be drowning of Love, not the other way around…

Love feels every toxin I add to her through my ignorance, what I created from out of Heaven. Not the evermore Heaven, for who knows, right? No. I mean the possibilities’ are limitless Heaven, limited only to the prerequisite that I remember where I am…

If I am in heaven, can I not reveal the implicitness in my relationship with nature, the natural environment, more than the one that I’d imagined?

I’m sharing my belief and Love is helping me shape it. God and Allah and Christ and Love are mere words, I should feel free to call “it” whatever name I, as a sovereign being, choose. If it’s carved out of the granite of Love, a diamond will be found in the rough…

I Love each of you equally, there’s no need to tarnish it any longer. She is waiting, why are we?

Who of you does not want to act…?

In this Life of Love and Laughter why would I have believed in the duality of Love swimming more with fear than with itself…?

(Mark Richard Prime needed your help, Love, but you didn’t recognize his anguish beneath that Cheshire grin and that happy go lucky infestation of Love’s repellent he so easily doused upon his joy!)

For years now I’ve had my mind set on just being while devouring all the love I could that I might now rise to the occasion that is before me.

They’ve seen me in my nakedness, in my private thoughts that some spirit set in motion, that escaped as if it were a very real and present fear. I am dancing with kindness, humbleness, graciousness, and adoration, and I’m cherishing this moment and creating the best thing I can imagine and still believe in…

If there is trouble within my dance with Love, it is the Fear brought along (or taken) for safety, not Love. Leave fear empty so that Love can be full. Life and Love were meant to be entirely joyous.

Rejoice! Heaven’s a loving gesture away. Time is irrelevant.

My choice is simple. Those that have experienced more of my fear than my Love, I am most sorry and indebted to your allowing me to dance with your spirits in the first place, but the dance has served a greater purpose, to usher these spirited words being summoned.

(Silence…)

I am trying to recall the spiritual journey taken those three weeks of my life. What could have occurred that held my guilt in with such ferocity for nearly thirty years? Have I created a belief by rejecting any and all Fear, I don’t know? All I believe is that everything’s going to be okay.

(How would you “know” that?)

I wouldn’t, I believe it beyond doubt. I want the world to be in laughter, not smothering Love with fear that she might end her breathing and inadvertently kill Love by despoiling the Heart(H) of Creation. Do that and I would imagine I’d land again in agony (hell) instead of breaking through fear’s teeth and bringing forth Heaven from out of the ashes…

Yes! I can pray without it, but the story ends when my flipped upside-down brain turns right side up of its thinking. Two layers, Love and Fear. I’ve been through the fear that has manifested my beliefs. I turned back before it was too late.

(It’s all of you, Mark Richard Prime, them, they- those people and those there and those over there and those here!)

Oh my love! I see your pattern! It is lit by Love and Forgiveness!

The way I chose to give my belief over to Love meant that I was dancing with your spirits because I chose to and promised to do so. The idea is simple, Love begets Love, instantly.

In no “time” Love snaps her fingers and the dance turns into rain!

I believe that if I let my Love dance with your Love, we’ll both delight in the rain as brother and sister’s of Love…

If I am not able to pray as I see fit to the great unknowable then I should be allowed to pray to what I know as the (H)eartH sees fit…

It’s ludicrous to imagine I can only pray to the unknown! How preposterous is that? Do I not own the guilt of what I do and have done? Is that the next level to reach? Am I near the top?

What I do and where I am matters more than anything my upside-down head can imagine. My actions have always outspoken my words, my words have just cleverly disguised themselves as fear in sheep’s clothing…

Boom! Goes the thunder before this rain, but this morning the clouds seemed as if they were painted for all to see, a work of art crafted of nothing but Love. I asked my wife to take a look before she went off to work. It was only a moment, but that moment meant more to my spirit and to my day than the subsequent hours combined.

She is The Mother, The Grandmother and set to sense the Great and Grand Mother, like all women are, all in my belief. They are one of the countless cherished events upon the eartH of Creation. Mothers are divine and there is no way around that.

My lovely angel, she’s nearer to Love than I have yet to fathom. Men’s wars alone have summoned a surplus of fear, a murderous march toward the unknowable with pride and might, but not with the fullness of Love…

I find them dear, these thoughts sent up with Love, yet never too far from off of the ground that I forget where I am ever again!

(Are you serious with that last one, Nimrod?)

What?

(Dear? What would you know about holding someone or anything dearly, Mark?)

The wind. The wind. The winding wind. The rain patters its Love into the dry soil. Do I not think she has a remedy for my foul use? Hadn't I best pay attention to my instincts now and give belief a rest? Hadn't I best begin the Love leg of my journey, I’d been absent of its song for too long, I’d forgotten where and who I am. I am a child of creation, like you and you and you and you and all and everything, as far as I am able to discern.

I let it flow into me, my friends, her loving embrace and acceptance of who I truly am beneath the mask I crafted from my fears.

The truth rested, it only stirred when I imagined less and believed more in what I knew.

It’s a conundrum to be sure. Is it more important to believe or is it more important to know? I say both. They need the other to breathe. Belief is ready to dance. It is I that found it hard to do without any Fear that stemmed from the guilt of how I’ve treated the Great and Grand Mother, Love…?

Rage has bared its teeth for the last time, until the next shadowy thought emerges from within a fearful belief. I should try to relax a bit and prove I remember where I am by my actions toward the eartH. If I bless her with my talents, gifts bestowed by Creation, if I cleanse my foul use she’ll rise up as my redeemer. It will be evident that time has been a large part of my fearful offence upon the eartH. With time I rush my thinking and it finds itself chained to fear. In this belief, I’m ushered away from all fear and left to dance with the fullness that is the whole of Love…

I sought you out dear brother and sister, knowing that what I said was countermand to your belief, and I only did it because the spirit moved me to it, Love, as far as I can tell of our dance. Why or how could I have denied my newfound spirit the sound it deserved when the eartH demanded that I speak? The Spirit of Love, dear brother and sister, cannot and will not be denied her day in court…

(Do not disparage another’s actions like you’re so fond of ridiculing another’s belief, Mark Richard Prime, actions speak louder than all of the fear found in your human thinking. If you hadn’t watered down your instincts so much, you might have recalled who and where you were long before now, saving the eartH from even more suffering at your complicit hands. Ironically enough, you find yourself behind in action, especially as a part of the collective human race, young in your tenure to Life’s sacred kingdom. )

Tragically ironic…

(Shouldn't you be letting go of your belief now, Mark Richard Prime?)

I am. It’s like a dam with a small fissure set to release the full pressure of my injury so long ago, not necessarily in this lifetime, in this phase of my loving, but set to release full Love nonetheless…

(The eartH is sovereign of my human thinking. She is unto herself, not unto thee…)

All of these words pour forth with an urgency that will not and cannot be denied. It is Love that sends me forth to reckon with my fears before I speak. It is Love that comforts my trepidations of what ifs and what for, and I’m tired of sacrificing my actions, my words and voice to the status quo. Sacrificing action, letting it dangle there waiting for Creation to snatch it up. I must be speaking it now, the spirit’s are getting restless, waiting for a belief that they can recognize as a loving story and act according to its merits, its Love over its fear, its grace before its urgency, its forgiveness above its pride, its joy over its sorrow, truth, not lies.

(Rejoice when you discern the difference between belief and something that is known within an environment that is mostly unknowable…)


© 2012 by the spirits dancing with mark richard prime

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