My head’s upside down. I am seeing or remembering things very differently than my breath can disseminate, our spirits danced and penned this story, not my self or our selves…
This is Love and Love conquers all, even me. “I” she had in hell for the things that “I” had done, but when “I” gave into my transgressions which held me at bay, “I” had to become egoless and the tongue of “me” sang her prayer…
I am not out of my mind, if that’s what some of you are thinking? No. I’m quite aware, not just me, but the spirits I am now dancing with are likely aware even before I’m made so, you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you. “I” was not to be found, anonymous, if you will. All of our spirits and all of our minds- Ever wondered why those things always made the least of sense, the spirit disconnected from the brain yet asking the brain to elevate action or deeds most important of all. Action’s speak so much louder than words, why we didn’t just believe without having to put it into words I’ll never know, but what choice do human’s have?
(Silence belief, awaken what is known.)
Words change, sorrow stays, love weeps, eartH comes at the behest of Love…
I mean no harm. I carry only goodwill (and animal instinct), being as I am human and all. I am just here trying to understand my instincts, its an amazing array of lovely nuances, and it was I that chose when I was enraptured by the Grandmother.
The last just now fired its warning shot across my brow, furrowed and impatient, how things have been given to me and the only thing that I know full well is the fact that I have to proceed upon whichever path the spirit of Love directs me…
---We need to get out of this mess, not because of people’s intention, but because it is time to move on.
It is time to envelop myself with Love and begin this long anticipated journey, to the self and to salvation…
It all changed, it doesn’t mean it followed a pattern, it means it tumbled headlong like the randomness of full life, love and laughter…
Let us summon our collective will and begin the long journey as saviors of the Mother eartH of Creation!
(Your words, dear scribe, have at times come unfettered in their prose, your love unraveling by the sin of neglect of Love, so why have you not summoned her as savior, if love’s been your only guide?)
What do you think I’m attempting to do by convincing you of my story? A prayer is an action word, or so I imagine, especially if the prayer is coming from beneath the feet.
My words are my actions, they are my prayers to you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and Love, the eartH, that which I know. Love human’s know, it is God that is our mystery, yet has everything to do with the eartH. She is the one that summons me, she begs my council for a while longer before I end my ill gained quest for truth.
I am here for the Mother, as are we all, instead of imagining myself in the know of one thing of God’s wishes, I chose instead to reflect upon the eartH of Creation and Love. And I believe with this act alone, I will have performed a most telling miracle in myself. The courage to speak as the person I was born to be.
I have discovered who, what and where I am and it is just what Creation ordered! Home, the HeartH of Creation, is the most beautiful shrine ever imagined for Life to float her head. But what of our use? Shouldn’t the eartH be most sacred to anyone’s God in this sky poking a finger in our eyes that we might then better see our connection? We as a collective spirit, a collective family, must begin our penance for the weight we’ve made upon the (H)eartH of Creation.
Love and God, have me in their grasp… the idea that we’re under a time limit even though we exist within eternity to begin with is ludicrous. Should we not also offer ourselves to the sacred cradle of Life? I mean she does provide without one single solitary payment due from us, save for caring for the Mother eartH…
It’s been written upside down! We are true to our nature, frightened animals accepting whatever’s being stuffed down our throats! Wake up people, this is no longer ours to destroy! If we’re smart, we’ll usher our affections forth like a newborn in the flesh and the spirit, an innocent love, through and through. And look what it is we are turning them into by our bellowing noise, even the noise found in our thoughts has become fearful… We’ve a lot of our thanks owed to her. Are we humankind or fearful beasts? Are we loving or fearing? Are we living or dead?
How about the truth? It is inconceivable, at least to me, that we would not collectively do our sworn duty to love all of her as well as our own. Let us rise to this most loving of occasions with the fullness of Love.
(What is most loving? Is that even possible in the fullness of Love?)
In the human capacity to imagine, it’s not, but it is accessible by how humankind treats the Mother eartH of Creation. How do we fair? I would simplify it to pay our dues, but even that doesn’t do justice to the truth behind how I found myself here in this unknown but glaringly obvious place, Heavenly eartH.
Heaven is on her way if we’ll but begin to give her credence. She is capable of giving more Love in return for more of our love to her skin, her embrace, her air and water, her angels slaughtered around her reach! Slaughtered brothers and sisters for what? For fear in place of the sanctuary of full Love? Are we mad?
Have we any idea what it is we are intended to do? Let’s discover who we are! Instead of either, science or belief, let them be married! Let them be pragmatic and Imaginative! For the love of God let them unite for Love!
Let us all repeat our vows to Love, Life and Laughter. Man’s preservation, for if it weren’t for humankind’s limited contribution to the overall picture, I’d be in a better position to speak.
I’m in love with the Mother and the eartH, my wife and the mother, she who bears the same action as the eartH’s living matter.
I probably would have handed the duty off long ago to another who might deliver the eartH’s prayer. Her song she sings if we’ll but end our noise that we might then see her for the Heaven she is on her own. Not wrapped tightly in our beliefs, but free, a sovereign entity of her own! Have beliefs, just know something before you summon its course…
Where do you imagine we’re headed if we don’t curb the noise? Heaven? Look around you, do you see enough Love? Then do something about it.
Rejoice that we may now find ourselves on to something unimagined, even with our flights of fancy, the truth sings a different tune than we can ever imagine. But fear not, all is going to be okay. It’s going along as she sees fit, the mother and the eartH of Mothers. Cleanse her now dear children, raise her up to her original splendor and she will bring you more Love than you’ve ever imagined.
I can see the clouds and the hawk, the grass and the tree line, but it is the baby blue sky that accents this eternal childhood memory. The rest are a blur, or are fading away the pain of my not knowing who I was, what I was and where I was. She pled with me her sorrow, I’m held against her soil, her grass and her sky in a loving dance of memory now rife in my belief of who I was born to be. Collective belief therefore is important, along with my freewill to create Love from my deeds, the truth, I believe, is within my volume of words…
I was on a journey, still am as far as I can tell, and along my way I had to seek forgiveness for my sins against another and against the eartH, of which there were many.
I believe in my heart of hearts that I am speaking with the spirit of the loving eartH.
Her song plays and I dance, her cacophony of sound erupts and I swoon at her message, her child, her son, her love, her spirit, her redeemer, to begin.
If we believe for even a moment that where we are is not Heavenly, then we have most assuredly lost our eyes to our own fetid noise…
The rain tells me I’m moving in synch with Love. The wind moves me along at Creation’s pace found in the Mother eartH’s fullness of Love, not the franticness found in fear or found in what ifs…
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© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark and Michelle Prime
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