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Not Really Pleased With Our Beliefs


We are not really all that pleased by our beliefs. Look at us? Running around on eartH like we're zombies raiding the ice box! Turning the planet into our own foul use, not the truth that writhes in her most loving dance, only Love, says she. That's it in a nutshell.

(Your the nut and the shell, Nimrod!)

Breathe... Love... Breathe... Love... Without being nuts, how else would I have been able to withstand the weight of the guilt from my own lack of a loving belief? The only explanation I can imagine, is that my wits were dashed against the eartH and I've been climbing my way out of hell ever since. Beneath the surface of my Love was too much godawful fear...

(The wind chime rings its somber note as the leaves walk down the street, clipping their revelry of having been set free at last. Clickety click, rustling a lovely tune, with a clickety clack and rat a tat tat...

(Silence in that, followed by an echo...)

A silent echo?

(Yes, yet not silent in the least. It's within you.)

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime


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