Boo!
In order for there to be peace, the war must be fought within ones self, not vicariously through another. The self must be brought to bear for its usage of the spirit. If you deceive another in the embellishment of Love, you are destined to reap what you sow, but according to Love, sowing will be the gift for our frail bodies and hearts, our thinking has sent Love and God calling upon us to think! Look around you, do you believe your belief, or do you believe your reality...? A balance must be met or the sky will no longer be the limit, our beliefs will come to calling and all hell will break loose if we don't harness the fear that will ensue from such an encounter.
Fear has been my guide long enough. I've been searching, what we're all intended to do, or so I believe, and now I've found Love and my wings to go along with her fullness...
These words are my Love poem to my Love, all of her actions have been for me. Hands down the fullness of Love and forgiveness has been my savior.
All children are Love. All, without an nth of a mite's pitooty of an exception! The children, my friends are those nearest to Love and look what we've allowed of ourselves in the use of them! O! We have done great harm to Love! Let us reflect upon that as the storm within ourselves surges like the water. What a foul mess we've made out of sustenance, water. The human-fouled water bread by indifference, not to mention the destruction of the forest and the meadow, the soil and the air, mountains and sand and rivers and streams and plants and the sanctity of Life and the reckless use of the fullness of Love, the HeartH of Creation.
I can't tell you what's going to happen. It's not mine to know or have any influence on at all, save for my
Perhaps I've been awake and asleep at the same damn time? Maybe I slipped and took another blow to my fragile pea-brain? Either way, it's Love, I'm just along for the scribe.
(Don't kill the messenger, listen to his story first...)
:Lo>E
The characters in my play are reminiscent of the spirit with which I've danced, the battle of belief belongs to reality. All children are precious! Boom boom says she that is Love and Forgiveness, my beautiful angel come whispering her spirit into me and I fell to the ground in sorrow... many many many times. She kept having to remind me that I'm loved WHEN I'm in prayer, afterward, reality's a lot like going back inside yourself to recognize who you were born to be, back into you to see what stands before you.
Heaven? The eartH?
(No way!)
It's Home, but Heaven?
(A guy can dream, can't he? Have you seen the monstrous construction that goes into indoctrination?)
My Love is not God, she is my savior, Love and God. Ring a bell?
Vows are not meant to be broken. If they are of love and nothing more, they are meant to be kept...
What, do you imagine was our very first vow, the vow with Creation and all it entailed?
For the Love of God begin to cleanse your Home and your spirits!
(Slow down there little feller! Ya ain't about to go all idiotic on me now, are ya?)
No, good and sturdy spirit. I'm just going with the flow, which if you hadn't noticed by now, is not in my control...
Love, peace and goodness to you, yours and the (H)eartH on our journey.
(I will not be co-opted. You?)
Write and speak your mind's sway, not of another's, for you have yet to know of their experience...
My Lovely Love and I need the other now more than in our lifetimes of need of true Love, when from the beginning of our life together was most evident to you, but not so much to the scribe, the vacant man, the raging man, the confused man, the pitied man, the warring man.
You are my peace treaty, you are my Love and my Forgiveness, as we all are meant to be, giving and receiving at a rate that far exceeds our failings... Without hell piled on top of Home, maybe we will see it for what it is, see it is what we make of it?
(ping)
Laughter! O joyous lilt of Love! You bring your trembling note to me and my courageous note goes with you. The balance has been reached...
Could the game be on me alone? Has Heaven slipped its tether and is now headlong into truth?
(Yes.)
Perhaps I only think I see. The joke's on me, in deed and in thought. I like that, an all encompassing self-deprecating realization that nothing is as it seems. Evolve, or keep up as best we can, it may surprise us all what we don't and cannot know until it is time...?
Since we're all Gods does that mean we bow or what?
(Never thought of it quite that way, scribe...)
Me either.
I'm sure all will be fine, my friend, you needn't me to check your thoughts behind the words you sow like grass instead of food.
Knowing you, what I'm able to garner from the net, is that you will create a most loving essay, if not, what'd be the point, right?
No need for all of this structure, this pomp and circumstance, this most loving of events is upon us, no more or no less than it has been our entire existence. Isn't it logical that our reality, at least in the global sense, is based on truths? Then why are we not searching for this truth like it is our mission in all of this living, laughing, dying, weeping, sorrowful rage! It can be blissful, peaceful, a loving hands full, so let's make it happen! Please?
But are we all Gods and still not yet with God?
God's been busy with Love, crafting a most delicious play from out of our every loving gesture, loving dream, loving thought, loving belief. Selfishness played a large role in forgetting my duties and the truth goes all around and through each of us. Because of my reckless hand in my blur-filled life. A play and a book are on my mind, both, as of yet, unwritten, but alive and well in my belief and my reality. I am not God, won't ever claim to be, but I'll be damned if anyone else can direct this show any better than me without 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 I will speak, I already am! And so are 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 me and you and you and you and you and- is it possible to just write "you x 12" instead of this carpal tunnel syndrome of yous?
(You're all family, and what syndrome the family has is up to each individual to respond in favor of that which is beneath our feet, the balance had long ago given way to fear, and we were none the wiser.
This is one long "karmaesque" event happening to me. Damn! Just when I come up for air, I'm greeted with the reflection of what I've always been, the next one to realize that it has always been me...
("(ping) or (Echo...)? How about (Silence...)?")
Love...
And of your new beginning where has it taken you, let us hope it is in your words and your deeds this dance with Love...
(Fantastic my friend! Fantastic! Then let's begin, shall we?)
I am nothing, my dear. I am but a mortal man with the spirit of Love as a gift. The highest score one can achieve for their own individual happiness is what they create within...
(Makes sense. But why the trace of fear?)
Instinct...
In order for there to be peace, the war must be fought within ones self, not vicariously through another. The self must be brought to bear for its usage of the spirit. If you deceive another in the embellishment of Love, you are destined to reap what you sow, but according to Love, sowing will be the gift for our frail bodies and hearts, our thinking has sent Love and God calling upon us to think! Look around you, do you believe your belief, or do you believe your reality...? A balance must be met or the sky will no longer be the limit, our beliefs will come to calling and all hell will break loose if we don't harness the fear that will ensue from such an encounter.
Fear has been my guide long enough. I've been searching, what we're all intended to do, or so I believe, and now I've found Love and my wings to go along with her fullness...
These words are my Love poem to my Love, all of her actions have been for me. Hands down the fullness of Love and forgiveness has been my savior.
All children are Love. All, without an nth of a mite's pitooty of an exception! The children, my friends are those nearest to Love and look what we've allowed of ourselves in the use of them! O! We have done great harm to Love! Let us reflect upon that as the storm within ourselves surges like the water. What a foul mess we've made out of sustenance, water. The human-fouled water bread by indifference, not to mention the destruction of the forest and the meadow, the soil and the air, mountains and sand and rivers and streams and plants and the sanctity of Life and the reckless use of the fullness of Love, the HeartH of Creation.
I can't tell you what's going to happen. It's not mine to know or have any influence on at all, save for my
Perhaps I've been awake and asleep at the same damn time? Maybe I slipped and took another blow to my fragile pea-brain? Either way, it's Love, I'm just along for the scribe.
(Don't kill the messenger, listen to his story first...)
:Lo>E
The characters in my play are reminiscent of the spirit with which I've danced, the battle of belief belongs to reality. All children are precious! Boom boom says she that is Love and Forgiveness, my beautiful angel come whispering her spirit into me and I fell to the ground in sorrow... many many many times. She kept having to remind me that I'm loved WHEN I'm in prayer, afterward, reality's a lot like going back inside yourself to recognize who you were born to be, back into you to see what stands before you.
Heaven? The eartH?
(No way!)
It's Home, but Heaven?
(A guy can dream, can't he? Have you seen the monstrous construction that goes into indoctrination?)
My Love is not God, she is my savior, Love and God. Ring a bell?
Vows are not meant to be broken. If they are of love and nothing more, they are meant to be kept...
What, do you imagine was our very first vow, the vow with Creation and all it entailed?
For the Love of God begin to cleanse your Home and your spirits!
(Slow down there little feller! Ya ain't about to go all idiotic on me now, are ya?)
No, good and sturdy spirit. I'm just going with the flow, which if you hadn't noticed by now, is not in my control...
Love, peace and goodness to you, yours and the (H)eartH on our journey.
(I will not be co-opted. You?)
Write and speak your mind's sway, not of another's, for you have yet to know of their experience...
My Lovely Love and I need the other now more than in our lifetimes of need of true Love, when from the beginning of our life together was most evident to you, but not so much to the scribe, the vacant man, the raging man, the confused man, the pitied man, the warring man.
You are my peace treaty, you are my Love and my Forgiveness, as we all are meant to be, giving and receiving at a rate that far exceeds our failings... Without hell piled on top of Home, maybe we will see it for what it is, see it is what we make of it?
(ping)
Laughter! O joyous lilt of Love! You bring your trembling note to me and my courageous note goes with you. The balance has been reached...
Could the game be on me alone? Has Heaven slipped its tether and is now headlong into truth?
(Yes.)
Perhaps I only think I see. The joke's on me, in deed and in thought. I like that, an all encompassing self-deprecating realization that nothing is as it seems. Evolve, or keep up as best we can, it may surprise us all what we don't and cannot know until it is time...?
Since we're all Gods does that mean we bow or what?
(Never thought of it quite that way, scribe...)
Me either.
I'm sure all will be fine, my friend, you needn't me to check your thoughts behind the words you sow like grass instead of food.
Knowing you, what I'm able to garner from the net, is that you will create a most loving essay, if not, what'd be the point, right?
No need for all of this structure, this pomp and circumstance, this most loving of events is upon us, no more or no less than it has been our entire existence. Isn't it logical that our reality, at least in the global sense, is based on truths? Then why are we not searching for this truth like it is our mission in all of this living, laughing, dying, weeping, sorrowful rage! It can be blissful, peaceful, a loving hands full, so let's make it happen! Please?
But are we all Gods and still not yet with God?
God's been busy with Love, crafting a most delicious play from out of our every loving gesture, loving dream, loving thought, loving belief. Selfishness played a large role in forgetting my duties and the truth goes all around and through each of us. Because of my reckless hand in my blur-filled life. A play and a book are on my mind, both, as of yet, unwritten, but alive and well in my belief and my reality. I am not God, won't ever claim to be, but I'll be damned if anyone else can direct this show any better than me without 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 I will speak, I already am! And so are 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 me and you and you and you and you and- is it possible to just write "you x 12" instead of this carpal tunnel syndrome of yous?
(You're all family, and what syndrome the family has is up to each individual to respond in favor of that which is beneath our feet, the balance had long ago given way to fear, and we were none the wiser.
This is one long "karmaesque" event happening to me. Damn! Just when I come up for air, I'm greeted with the reflection of what I've always been, the next one to realize that it has always been me...
("(ping) or (Echo...)? How about (Silence...)?")
Love...
And of your new beginning where has it taken you, let us hope it is in your words and your deeds this dance with Love...
(Fantastic my friend! Fantastic! Then let's begin, shall we?)
I am nothing, my dear. I am but a mortal man with the spirit of Love as a gift. The highest score one can achieve for their own individual happiness is what they create within...
(Makes sense. But why the trace of fear?)
Instinct...
© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime
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