I am with Love as We Speak

I believe I was chosen, doesn't mean I'll pass the many tests to come. Could mean that I have not been or will be selected out of the many billions that have been "chosen. Am I like some lab experiment by God and Love that went terribly wrong?

(Too many cooks in the kitchen, eh?)

Yes, but a lab experiment? I don't know for sure, I know nothing for sure, if I did I would have solved this long ago. But the thought goes on forever, if an end is not possible in this.

(But what if it is possible?)

Then it is true, this story unfolding before me. Help me harness it, please?

God is in my Love, my Lovely angel come to rescue me from my self. I bow to the knowledge that I cannot know and kiss the soil in earnest for her cleansing and mine. When guilt is gone, in other words fear, it comes as no surprise.

It's all going backwards for me, like a film churning out forgotten futures and remembered pasts, a machine bent on Love...

What if our hope is in our belief of where we are, like a reality series where you create your own reality. The play is in it's third act, or is it four, I cannot recall for the acts go on beyond my eye, just out of reach.

(Why they call it unknowable, scribe.)

But what if it is knowable in the end, then as far as belief is concerned it is knowable, wouldn't that render unknowable meaningless? Unknown has more flexibility in its nuance...

Dear brother, and sister, I am most anxious for you to imagine this as the fullness of Love. Fear has left the building. I am with Love as we speak...

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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SKYFALL

Skyfall... We continue to play along with an unnatural game that has serious consequences, soon we'll find ourselves enslaved without recourse to the system. (Is that true of local charades?) Yes. (Why can't we free ourselves from the system?) The madness of money. (It's not money, it's people, right?) It's both, money and us in tandem, thus assuring money's might and our adherance to its loudness. (Madness...) Indeed. © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

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THE ROCK HOLDS

The rock holds the soil in and from the soil springs the tree, the green of LIFE rolling from the blue, rising to the occasion of itself. . “Be!”, the (H)eartH declares, “Be what you are!” . (We thought we were!) . (We think we are!) . “You are, but not freely, therefore, only a thought, and a thought without much thinking, as if you were scared into it.”, the (H)eartH added. . [a quietude begins, the truth being heard and heeded, grooving to the flow] ~ © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

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CONFESSION ZERO

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