Skip to main content

8.05.12 Warning: May Sound Incredible, May Echo for Lifetimes… God the Mother, God the father


We’ve always been God, we all have by inheritance, not by comprehension’s end and truth’s begin of anything beyond our need to know, until we understand what, then where, then who we are! We have to get to know ourselves, and the (H)eartH requires a path to her salvation from your God!

That I believe is coming soon to our theater in the cosmos, we are not separate of that which we float in with abandon, we are the sky! The sky is what we’ve always been a part of, without the rain we perish, it’s her pureness of her nectar called water that we dance in the first place! We begin in her nectar! We are life within her loins and we can’t run fast enough to escape the Mother, she is everywhere and she is Love, the other side of God, make your choice…

I’m not working with them, at least not the 100%, these spirits that want to shape our story, that desire something more akin to Armegeddon than the loving method in which we summon our Love. We dance with another’s love all day and night, twenty-four seven, three sixty five a year for an eternity of which from one light to the next we’re meant to remember the lifetime before until the mind begins to spill forth its Love through your prayers! Let us summon our greatest belief and we shall have it! This is my Love story to you! We, ladies and gentlemen, are most ready to offer our prayer to her, that she might shape the kingdom you so ruthlessly dismiss as against God! Nothing’s against God and Love than mankind’s rush to commit suicide, but really, where’s the victim, standing in as suspect? Love! Love all and everything! Release all Life, take our foul paws from off of her most fervent prayers, her children, all, her Loving Life, her. The queen of the universe, mother eartH. In the end guy’s we’re most closely connected to the mother, the sister, the bride, the aunt, the cousin, the in-law, the original seed. Yes. We were always meant to return where we were born. Heaven is the most abundant of places known to man, his Home, we call on you God to summon your fears that you might have your say and then speak we begin our duty to her skin…

Your actions determine your God. Your actions move the clock of this lifetime as it squats, but it still contains within it full Life, Love and Laughter, you just need to summon it…

No. You’re not going to need the medicines as God’s, but as a whole within the heavens we float without recognition, ignition, premonition, just our god-fouled cynicism! Release her! Let her go! She’s found her Love! And I and she summoned us into two versions of Heaven, but her hope for Love was fading, if I foolishly jumped the gun. As one might understand, I call this consideration in my belief. Consider the others, just make none of them holy, especially the one of your own. You may not like what you receive within the one of your own. We can create our Heaven, but we cannot choose when she ends! We cannot and will not know the end until and if the time arrives that God sees our loving face, our own and the eartH’s… Smile as those fearful questions come down their calling, as thought, as questions run past any pre-drawn conclusions, as a truth that benefits the Mother eartH. But I have given her little choice but to not believe in Mark Richard Prime, so I changed who I had become into who I was born to be and, well, you can imagine the commotion that the foul man she was waiting on had inside of him for years without end when he arrived Home! The dismay at having waited so long only to continue to be seen as the selfish man I used to be… Oh my Love, you waited only to hear that the other half came calling as the next one, just not before she found herself tired to exhaustion of Laughter empty from Love’s fancy face…

Oh! My Love! Oh my Goddess most divine, I am sorry my lovely angel Love! I am sorry from the fullness of my Love for you! I don’t deserve you, but I’ll fight to the finish to remain in prayer next to you! Being with my Love in paradise! Isn’t that truly all we want? To be Loved! Yes! Love is our soul connection!

Sole’s whole soul connection station isn’t right down the road, but all the way into your private heaven’s creation…

Oh my dearest Love, Michelle, I am in awe at your wonder, your strength, but if I act upon my belief, it will infringe upon the whole of the spirit, not just you. You are still with me because you are forgiveness and Love and Mother, and Lovely angel Love! You are she that summoned who I was born to be, the scribe of your affections…

Love…

(You can choose to be God, God help you if you do, or you may choose to be an angel, a steward for the eartH!)

She breathe's beneath our feet! She rises when we either summon her fear-filled regret or summon her Love. She rises! Let us bow outside and greet her smiling...


© 2012 by the spirits dancing with mark richard prime

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

SKYFALL

Skyfall... We continue to play along with an unnatural game that has serious consequences, soon we'll find ourselves enslaved without recourse to the system. (Is that true of local charades?) Yes. (Why can't we free ourselves from the system?) The madness of money. (It's not money, it's people, right?) It's both, money and us in tandem, thus assuring money's might and our adherance to its loudness. (Madness...) Indeed. © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

THE ROCK HOLDS

The rock holds the soil in and from the soil springs the tree, the green of LIFE rolling from the blue, rising to the occasion of itself. . “Be!”, the (H)eartH declares, “Be what you are!” . (We thought we were!) . (We think we are!) . “You are, but not freely, therefore, only a thought, and a thought without much thinking, as if you were scared into it.”, the (H)eartH added. . [a quietude begins, the truth being heard and heeded, grooving to the flow] ~ © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

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