Dancing With the Loving Spirit

(I’m like a shadow, you’ll not see me!)

Too bad. Shadows generally follow. I was hoping you might walk with me. I could use the guidance and do without the curmudgeonly reluctance. Walk beside me, spirit, that I may not feel so alone on my journey, though I’m surrounded by the fullness of Love and Creation, a fellow loving spirit in the flesh would be nice company…

(They don’t want to dance with you, Rimnod!)

How on eartH would you know what the loving spirit desires? You’re too busy scheming and bellyaching to dance at all…

(Silence…)

Yet, Curmudgeon, you are dancing with the loving spirit, you’ve no choice, none of us do, it’s just become so unrecognizable that you have become sightless to its step…

(Silence…)

Silence is golden, even in prayer…

(Thoughts tend to fall to the sheen of the worthless metals.)

It’s not our place to say what a worthless metal is, after all, metals are a part of the (H)eartH of Creation.

(Sure.)

Then it is the bone just beneath the Mother and the Father’s (H)eartH. It is priceless. Is it not?

End your wars, your murder, genocide, oppression and fear,
end your stumble that you might see Love’s spirit,
cease your grumble of not knowing and the truth shall appear.

O! Bring round your laughter that laughter and thee might dance!
Summon the fullness of Love that Love and thee can thrive perchance
that Life and Laughter can have their waltz
to reveal the fullness of Love’s hold upon us and our fate
To allow us to rescue our lives from having been
such a God-awful waste.

The wind. The wind. The wind caresses me with forgiveness, leaving I to wonder why.

(Because it’s your “me” and not your “I”.)

It is me, not I, me, who I was born to be.

(Echo…)

........•SHRIEKING MACHINE•........ •HEAD-LINES• •RIP• ---(“Russian missiles blast Ukrainian military academy and hospital, killing more than 50, officials say”)--- There are no more lessons to learn here, no more beds to hold the human wounded, just missile’s shrieking their grotesque ode, The Death of Humankind! RIP, children of God… ---(“Hundreds attend Mercer Island vigil, march for murdered Israeli hostages”)--- Dear mourners, this is the brutal vacuum of a genocidal, terror-filled, indiscriminate war-machine made of fear and we are all hostages to its deafening roar! RIP, children of God… ---(“10-year-old allegedly confesses to fatally shooting 82-year-old man and his daughter”)--- I must confess, this is part of war’s shrieking, children lost with a we...

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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

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Per Plex Ed

PER+PLEX-ED When you haven’t heard the truth in so long, when you do, it rings a most familiar s ong. That’s the human song, the truth rolling out exactly when it should. (If a truth is told and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound only to the one that spoke it?) Yes, but our ears aren’t strong enough to hear it. [a perplexed silence] © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

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CONFESSION ZERO

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