Skip to main content

I Beg Your Pardon


Spirit, I beg your pardon, I was leaving my take on it, sorry if that offended you, but we all do what we need to do in order to sate another's belief, belief is what you think it is, not what it thinks of you...

I am not meaning to upset you, not in the least my friend(s), I'm using our dance as the bridge to Love's center and with only loving thoughts and loving gestures. We are all gurus, my friend. We are always gurus, it's our right, it's our right to speak what we believe, I just thought I'd dance my belief into my reality and leave it at that! Snip snip snap and a rat a tat tat, bing, bang, boom it's Love's lens to zoom in near enough for me to see it, write it or read it. O! The dance has me moving to her drum, her orchestra of sound made of the human spirit!

Sorry, spirit, but I caught you and I in mid-prayer. As you were. :)

Love, peace and goodness to you, yours and the (H)eartH...

Love, peace and goodness to you, yours and the (H)eartH...


© 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