Remember where you are. Over and over and over until love’s song nestles inside of your breath and billows a refrain, then the journey back home can begin, before human, after love. The reason is simple, the lesson, immense. Belief is humankind’s blindfold. Empty gesturing and corduroys- What? -that they were wearing that day? What? Irrelevant. Barren. Nothingness. Stop. Dear fellow human, I looked for you today. I hunted for you in peace, but found you not. Sought you in truth like a butterfly seeks out its flower. I hoped to find you nearest to love, rejoiced at having been greeted accordingly. Yes. Did you expect me to be an easy target? Yes. Let me then speak of peace, of love, of goodness for all , not of treachery anymore. Stand with me, brothers and sisters… © 2012 by mark prime
(The Weaver's Song)