Skip to main content

8.06.12 What Other Choice Did I Have, Awful or Fated?


I’ve no cause to speak of belief, for the knowable writhes underneath my feet and throughout my being. What right do I have to condemn her fate to what I imagine instead of cleansing her fate to resemble mine own…

Hell has been here as long as we first conjured it in our thinking. We are born to be creators, and we’ve been destroyers instead. Think with Love, not with your greed. Think with Love, not with your arrogance. Think with Love, not with your consumption. Think…

What other choice did I have? Chance, I don’t imagine so. It’s more likely that it was fated due to my choices. Neither really do much justice to the amazing journey upon the pathway of full Love I’ve been traveling. Halleluiah! Rejoice! Great Love awaits this entrance! There have always been two choices, Love and fear, both can summon the spirit and it’s up to us which direction we travel. Full Love can only receive and return full Love. Fear can never be a part of Love, it will not fit. Fear, then, is superfluous to Love’s existence, and, logically enough, to its own…

Let us not think in terms of God, let us think in terms of those things with which we are familiar. A cave is dark even in the daylight, a forest lights its way from limb to limb, to stream, to river to sea, they call out to us with their open arms, and they ask that we recall our beginning, the eartH and the Spirit, Home and Heaven. Let me remember my Home is sacred, to Love, to God, and to me…


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark and Michelle Prime


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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
32 comments
read the poem

Waiting for It

Why do they stay there, between war and peace? Sky’s tapestry doles out guns, bombs and rocks while flesh and bone swim away from the ache yet live on as the food for the murder of peace. Why do we hide from the truth as if it were an ogre while death makes a home inside their living and war dispatches a raven to their door, smirking with the teeth of empire? Why do we wait, stooped for another wink? The sky’s drapery has tossed down ample clues, peace is breathing in harmony with war. (Road-maps are useless to blind leaders.) Why do they hold there, hunched in the gloom? Hatred’s bird cackling with bereavement needs end. Are we not rightly dishonored when we fill its trough with blood? © 2007 mrp/thepoetryman
12 comments
read the poem

Laughter's Grip

They asked me to wait. To wait for God to come laughing, wait on His voice to destroy the golden temples of man, hold my tongue until His powerful breath was upon me, and from His loving casualties I’d at last know the Savior. They asked me to wait. To wait for God to come laughing, wait for His followers to die away their persuasive babble and the murder of Islam to breach the walls of the earth as the many damned souls drowned under holy laughter. “O! The Lord God is looming! On his way with God’s wrath! We are to take up swords and send evil howling back to die their well deserved and slow death! Their faces popped and spattered these words as they fell back, caught in His fiery presence, twisting their tongues into drivel and thrashing their minds in the glory of an Eden unlike any other. And then the snake planted his venom through the laughter of their gyrating madness. Tears emptied their pockets, spirits came crashing , and the anointed rapture of their making grew tire...
23 comments
read the poem