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9.11.12 - The Rising Wind is Upon Me 9-11-11 (12)


The wind. The wind. The rising wind is upon me. The noise does battle her countenance as if she were a whore for our foul consumption! Stop! For the love of Home, stop! Let us instead begin to paint upon her most wondrous skin a prayer for our duty! Ruin, our sorrow built from the fullness of fear, can be breathed into the fullness of Love.

I say let’s change the balance from one of fear to one of Love. Let’s do away with our sorrowful beliefs that bring fear of what awaits, instead of getting down to the business of now!

Now and now and now… eartH awaits our observance…


© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

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