If belief is eternal then belief is not ours to add an ending, no conclusion of any kind, it is ours to paint from. Belief’s the paint, the eartH’s the canvas, so we must be the brush.
(Maybe you’re the artist?)
Yes. The scribe of Love, the painter of Love, the pirouette of Love, the orchestra of Love, the mother of Love, the father of Love, the sister, brother, aunt and uncle of Love, the creator’s of Love-
What were the instructions again? I think I missed the memo on that particular day? Help me out my friends, have I truly been asleep that long? Have I not tumbled into my own dream and you are but mere actors on Life’s boiling stage-
Cue the light! Cue the robots consumption! More blood! We need more blood! And… action!
Yes. More action’s needed indeed…
Heaven. Love. Truth. Laughter. Joy. Life. We are there already, so we best make a most loving choice now. And now and now and now and now and now and now and now and now and now and now and now and now and laughter and laughter and merriment and glee and stewardship and angels, the carriers of the spirit of love to it’s fullness. Without one, the spirit is no longer the collective. Reach out to one another collectively…
© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime
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