Skip to main content

THIS IS HEAVEN... I BELIEVE


This is Heaven.

This is Heaven.

This is Heaven.

(It’s not that you were special, Mark, it’s because you were indifferent to Love. You were not necessarily chosen, more a lotto pick out of 7 billion individual beliefs.)

If my head is clear and I am in silence and I find myself in the fears of my making, I pray I remember their lessons, then bury them in the ground of which I hold most sacred, above all else...

Have I truly been summoned by Love to examine belief, or is Love merely demanding that I come up with a fearless and fully Loving belief? Either way, I chose full Love and it is set to come lovingly in this, my belief. I chose a loving belief over one that ends in the annihilation of all Life. Didn’t everyone?

(Silence…)

The loving spirit soars in me, she has my hand in a vow to Creation and we soar as I pray and I’m next to Love. I must remember why I am here in the first place. At least I imagine that’s the answer I seek…

The Grandmother obliges. She brought me to myself. Thing is, I had to wrestle away the gargantuan “I” that had accumulated, mostly in my spleen. So the newly resurrected “me” rose with Love or I would have been suffering through another lifetime, another round on the wheel, for what exactly?

In Heaven I am able to create my own reality, if I had chosen a reality of fear, then others should have flown their own belief for the (H)eartH, the Heart of Heaven, a belief like never before…

(Silence…)

I must bring down the steel bars and weapons of collective annihilation that I might fully witness the one exactness of my dreams…

Oh my dear lovely angel Love, I’ve been blind to your sacrifice, but you are leading me now and I am in Heaven. It has been your spirit that has directed me the most, your words and your actions, I, your loving marionette, ever so grateful to dance with you after what I’ve done to you and my daughters through my once fearful belief…

The stage has been well under way that’s before me, the truth calls up to me, while squatters pray without any recognition of what side of Heaven they’re on! Squatter’s Heaven is a thankless existence.

(You’d certainly be one to know a lot about thankless, Mark Richard Prime…)

Yes… I chose to climb my way out of the hell of my own making, I chose to die, and die again if need be, but, in my belief, the spirit of Love chose that I live to speak of what I have seen. Love is dying, fear is thriving. Then we might as well give her a farewell party, a grand affair that’ll make everyone feel anything but responsible…?

(And you’d know a lot about that, too, Nimrod…)

At least I’m not playing the “game” and am instead carving a belief of full Love, so I believe without knowing.

(What do you know?)

Mark Richard Prime, nothing. I don’t know anything, just because my human mind can create something, doesn’t mean it’s real or that I should…

(Silence…)

Oh my dear Michelle, you have taken my breath and returned it to full love…

I’ll not pretend to be in Heaven, I see no point in that. I will be in Heaven…

(Silence….)

Humans are animals, they have routine built into their DNA, yet humankind’s upside down routine has changed our role from being one of a steward to that of attempted murderers of the (H)eartH of Love…

My belief is irreverent to that which cannot be known, the one exactness. Oh! How the one unknowable exactness must be entertainment for we human’s tiny existence!

The key is to be open to all and love like your life depended on it… Without Love, we’d be where exactly?

(Again, with your attempt at exactness? Not on your life, Nimrod!)

There you go again with your belief in your prayers to the unknowable…

(*)

My problem is reality.

(You got your Heaven, brother, now what are you going to do about it?)

Since I don’t know anything I’m left to believe in her without wanting to have it proven through some miraculous turn of events. I believe it beyond the tiniest shadow of doubt in my prayers. Knowing and believing are two very different things…

Love’s about to come wearing Mother’s clothes, Grandmother’s warmth and Great Grandmother’s lessons, I am an eternal being. The stage of death and fear nears its end, Love and Life are waiting in the wings to lift this all away from sorrow…

The truth, which cannot be known until I’m ready and it allows, is beyond my imagination.

(But you’re saying this is Heaven?)

Heaven’s not beyond anyone’s imagination.

(*)

She is my bride, a union, I worship her. Not necessarily through ritual, but through Love…

I feel the sunshine telling me that everything’s moving along as planned and that all is going to be okay.

I have the power to end my own suffering, thereby all suffering within the frame of my reality.

(Methinks not!)

I see your point. That would place this reality inside my head and reality, which means the line has been crossed, so I’ll step it back a notch, after all, there’s so much more I have yet to learn and believe in…

(Who knows what you might have missed as you stumbled along the pathway to Love, Nimrod?)

The Mother eartH thrums her waves and shifts her rock and beckons my better self, my full love, to reach down into my spirit and soar with my awe…

~

Ironically enough, it is belief that has forfeited Love, not the other way around…

If I believe something is going to happen it doesn’t mean it is going to indeed happen, but if I imagine myself a part of the whole, the eartH, the moon, the sun, the cosmos the ocean deep, the mountains, the soil and the seed, I will do so in motion and with the fullness of Love…

(You in motion? Ha! That’s a laugh!)

Go ahead and mock it, spirit, it is what it is and you are what you are. Ever think that maybe you’re the one that needs to love with me and all and everything?

(Silence…)

The truth is not in my grasp, belief is. So “what to do with it” is the most pertinent question I can ask of myself… do I squander it in fear or do I fill it with nothing but the full spirit of Love…?

It’s up to me to craft. Do you, spirit, now see why I’m being so careful? If I imagined my belief as being delivered by Creation itself, I was left with little choice but to build my entire belief out of Love and into Heaven. (Construction is underway.) I only seek all of the spirits input, so I’ve asked that Love take my belief out of my hands for the unknowable future and mold it with loving hands…

(Are you too timid to speak for yourself, Nimrod?)

Anyone that knows me recognizes that I’m not too shy to speak, but the belief in the one truth is not mine alone to speak, it is humankind’s duty to love and cherish the eartH as Home, therefore, any loving belief, loving through and through, is everyone’s to speak…

If I’ve anything to do with this belief I’ll not spurn the hand of Love for the claw of Fear…

(You suppose?)

Yes, or so I believed.

*~*

Dear spirit, what you imagine coming from this, probably surpasses any expectations I had in the first place. Wait? That means that I should listen to both sides, reflect on the benefit to the survival of the eartH and, if it is beneficial to all of life, proceed with Love and remembrance…

(ping)

The remembering forever is the difficult thing to imagine…

(The traffic spurned your nearly silenced mind, Mark. The sounds called you back to center, back to heavenly Home.)

Am I within my own belief? Have I imagined enough beauty yet to summon Love’s verdict?

(There is pain in belief, Mark. But fear, why? You are in "Heaven" and you are with "Love", suffer no more…)

In my belief we’re all the child of God, all wingless angels/stewards of the eartH. Let us earn some wings by not only showing the eartH our full love and attention, but believing that she is indeed Heaven, or just Home if you prefer. Either way, hold up your songs to Love…

(A symphony of Love…)

If you can imagine eternal life in the arms of The Mother... then do so without fear. If you cannot imagine the eartH as Heaven then be in motion without fear upon your heavenly Home.

(When will you stop dancing, Mark Richard Prime?)

I will dance evermore.

(That’s a long time.)

Time is pointless. I weighed eternal Home against the other choice I imagined, the choice where I could sleep evermore in silence, nothingness for all of time, no suffering, no pain, no wars, no murder, greed or destruction of the (H)eartH. I chose Home, Life and Love, forevermore with Creation. It doesn’t mean that it is truth or reality, it is a loving belief, I cannot pretend it is more than that for it is unknowable.

(Careful what you wish to be true, Mark. If you don’t go through all of the possible scenarios, you may end up ruining everyone else’s good time.)

No. It is Home. It is, the eartH of Creation that rests within a heavenly paradise. It is the only thing I've ever truly known, I just forgot…

(Silence…)

(Echo…)

(Love…)

(A belief...)

(ping)

© 2012 by mark richard prime

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ROOT OF

"For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs." __1 Timothy 6:10 It is MONEY, not the LOVE of it that is the issue, the true problem. Love, in and of itself, is never a problem, WANT and NEED, or better yet- the WANT and the conundrum of its very REQUIREMENT for our survival IS the problem, it's creation and our blind use of it is logically the ROOT. In other words, let's leave LOVE out of it altogether and deal with the facts instead. If money were not made by us as a requirement for our survival, we'd find ourselves in a much better position to argue of its need and our want of it. MRP Peace and Love © 2015 Mark Richard Prime
........•SHRIEKING MACHINE•........                  •HEAD-LINES•                           •RIP•     ---(“Russian missiles blast Ukrainian military academy and hospital, killing more than 50, officials say”)---    There are no more lessons to learn here, no more beds to hold the human wounded, just missile’s shrieking their grotesque ode, The Death of Humankind! RIP, children of God…    ---(“Hundreds attend Mercer Island vigil, march for murdered Israeli hostages”)---    Dear mourners, this is the brutal vacuum of a genocidal, terror-filled, indiscriminate war-machine made of fear and we are all hostages to its deafening roar! RIP, children of God…    ---(“10-year-old allegedly confesses to fatally shooting 82-year-old man and his daughter”)---    I must confess, this is part of war’s shrieking, children lost with a we...

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman