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The Weaver’s Song


I believe I’m weaving you
And you and you and you and you and a wealth
Of threads weaving a belief in Love
And duty and kindness and peace and health
And joy and laughter, but there I go, repeating my self.

(You are.)

Yes. I am, but what is wrong with that?

(You’re not only repeating yourself, you’re losing the thread of full Love and beginning to weave your own conception of events into a hybrid of truth and your belief, numbskull!)

That is, in this belief, my duty, kind spirit. And I believe that it will benefit we humankind to recognize where, who and what we are long before our fearful beliefs collide with our ill-fated heads.

(Instinct?)

Yes. To me, belief resides just below the heart of nature. It’s natural. Truth and Belief as dance partners that cannot dance without the other, much like Love, Life and Laughter.

(Echo...)

Reaching up with all of my strength I begin to see things for what they are and not as what they’ve become. I believe that we are trying to dictate our own fate by our human choices as if the order is reversed and as old as all and everything and that is how it should be. The order of events is mirrored to come back into nature, into the fullness of Love and Creation…

There is no division! Not an nth of light between separation and Love! Do not forsake your Love, which, in my opinion, means that we are not to forsake, not to give up at all since everything and all is created with the fullness of Love! Rejoice!

I am in your way, my apologies, let us both freely walk as we imagine a procession of Love would walk, shall we?

(What?)

Not sure. I went off track momentarily. What?

(Oh my.)

O! Yes! I am in your way, my apologies, let us both proceed, freely walk as we would imagine a procession of Love, shall we? Love and Creation!

Now I see the eartH and hear the (H)eartH.
The eartH speaks to me with urgency, a beckoning toward forgiveness.
I believe that it would benefit me to quiet down and begin to really listen,
and then react to the sounds instead of my own foul noise.
Give it a rest for awhile, dance to her song instead, relish in her sounds.

(Weep for your toxins and your murderous wars and your poisonous breathing over the eartH, Mark Richard Prime!)

I believe I’ve been too damned busy imagining the future that I’ve forgotten the past. Too damn busy imagining as I’m seeing this destiny unfold before me. I can’t recognize, recall or remember the fullness of my past, when, instead, I should be only considering the eartH! But I am a part of Life and I’ve chosen to go along with it, belief can be my savior from fearful thinking. Fear is Love’s adversary.

I’ve forgotten about my now.

In my opinion, it would behoove humankind to consider their Home and now and now and now and now and you and now and me and now and you and now and me and now and now and now and now and now and now and me and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and you and now and you and now and you and now and you and now and me and now and you and now and sound and now and peace and now and laughter and now and life and now over our foul noise and now and you and now and you and now and you and now and me and now and now and you and you and you and now and you and now and you and now and now and now and…

(Silence?)

Yes. And now I can’t quite seem to recognize my own. Oh, I see well enough and can come to my own personal silence, I just can’t recall with any great clarity what it is I’ve just seen in now, the now just before now and what it told me, save for the constancy that Heaven’s beneath my feet.

It is Heaven, if not simply heavenly by all intents and purposes. From what we’ve been able to garner of our full surroundings, the most heavenly planet known to and for life, green, blue and sunlight, animalkind and humankind and all known kind, is the eartH. It is heavenly Home in my belief AND heavenly Home in my reality…

I am in the now. Right now and now’s my only concern, my past, mere stepping stone toward the atonement of my sins, and the future, well that’s not up to me. And it’s certainly not up to me to create some hellish end bent of fear.

(Why isn’t it?)

Yes, it is, but I haven’t the right to say how things should be for the eartH.

(Why not?)

Because, in my opinion, it would be beneficial to all that belief begin to coincide with reality.

(What’s reality?)

Oh, spirit! Must I continue beyond even a surmised conclusion and bring an end at least to all of this dancing with my fellow spirit?

(It is not a conclusion, Mark Richard Prime, that you are weaving, it is belief which, according to your upside-down headed brilliance, is eternal along with all else, therefore you’ve not given yourself much weight upon the (H)eartH’s soil. You’re floating away.)

No. I am not floating away. I’m dancing in a heavenly Home.

(Silence…)

In order to bring about the fullness of Love in my belief that’s unfolding before me from the dance with my fellow spirits, I had to bring the fullness of my personal love or I would have been seen as a hypocrite. I’ve promised I would scribe and speak the events that pour out of our dance with the fullness of the loving spirit that’s within my particular experience. My Love is the angel that guides me along a most forgiving path…

I am ashamed to be the one to have garnered the grace of Love and forgiveness. Creation, it is most humbling to see forgiveness standing tall before me with arms wide open, pleading for me to enter in…

(ping)

I am.

(Love…)

(Silence…)

Love…

(Life…)

Laughter!

O! Purse my fated lips and bellow my sorrow another day. Now it’s best I cleanse my own sins and stop idly praying, and begin to be in motion as I entreat the Creator’s Heavenly Home. Creation, I would imagine, is most loving and simply wants me to- needs me to mirror its reflection within my own creation of Love and Home…

I believe I’m weaving you
And you and you and you and you and a wealth
Of threads weaving a belief in Love
And duty and kindness and peace and health
And joy and laughter, but there I go, repeating my self.

(Silence…)



© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime


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