Skip to main content

The Dance With the Spirit


The dance with the spirit can be rather frightful, depending on the intentions of your dance partner. Perhaps instinct accompanies the future of human thought? I believe that we’re set to know, thereby rendering belief meaningless. I believe that I am set to know the facts of original belief. Original belief must have really been something, something akin to the truth of our reality.

I hope, if it is to be thus, that I’m prepared to dance before the song begins to play, and pray that I’m ready to believe in my reality enough to heed the call of the HeartH, the (H)eartH and the Heart(H) of Creation.

Let me begin.

(If it's eternal, you can’t quite ask one to begin, now can you?)

Then let us continue, only in a more loving direction.

(Silence…)

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

........•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...

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

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