I’m dancing with your loving spirit when I pray, yet dancing with the fears of one another’s belief when I am not…
(As if they are known…)
Is there truly anything more deplorable than me spouting off my belief when we’ve all got one of our own to spare? I don’t know diddly squat, as I’ve want to say, so why do I persist, while in prayer, in doing just that? Could it be that truth is also an action verb? That’s crazy!
(Is it?)
Yes. It is why I believe that prayer is personal, yet dually an action verb.
(It could be a game designed from out of your belief(s), belief in the demonstrably unknowable, save one.)
Let’s stop praying to what we believe and start praying to what we know- The eartH. The eartH, and we will, in this belief, suffer less.
But even this belief is one among so many varying hopes and dreams and nightmares and parasitic cravings that need me to see them in the correct light before I can engage them upon even those willing. If I’m going to believe in something so unquestionably, I better have it down to a science, honed to a sharpness whose conclusion is that which benefits both Love and God, both eartH and Creation, both Creator and Created. This is merely a stage in our spiritual evolution, or so I believe, and we are set for loving and believing in what we know, not what we believe of that which is simply unknowable. I pray it is real for me, if another chooses the same that is his or her absolute right to believe as they alone see fit…
But is that not just more of where we’ve always been in terms of our original use? Being in belief? Being among one another at war, at foul play, at murderous tempos found in our machines of misery? This is less of a belief and more of a plea for the Mother eartH that’s bending to our fears and recklessness.
(Silence…)
My instinct tells me I am flirting with conflict, not just the one in my mind, but in all of the minds of the spirits I’ve been dancing with for many years now…
Known or unknown, is there truly a difference between them, save for what I know beneath my feet?
If we choose may we not create a most divine replication of our “Heaven” and not the ruinous model made of fear forming agony?
(Is there truly a model for Heaven?)
Not that I’m aware of. But what do our beliefs paint of Heaven? A safe refuge from God, from the unknown Exactness, or do we sculpt our Heavenly eartH with joy from out of only Love and soar our imaginations into a loving paradise? If it’s not actually Heaven, we win by performing for Creation a righteous duty that benefits all of life. If it does indeed turn out to be Heaven… we’ve already won.
(The wind. The wind. The winding wind blows through paradise. Silence…)
© 2012 by the spirits dancing with mark richard prime
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