CONFESSION ZERO (The Weaver's Song)

The call of eversleep is too distant. Desire of Love is stronger than my puny frame, stranger than my scrawny frame of flesh, blood and bone. Eversleep is not as simple to me as it might first sound to you. Eternity is a very long time.

Eternity is a manmade word, but what does it mean?

(A long, long, long time.)

Time, too, is a concoction of the hurried mind. A critter sewn of thought…

(A moment of silence…)

Lifetime after lifetime imagining you’ve figured out the enigma that is the self, now figure out the enigma that is the eartH of Creation, The Mother herself…

Someone recently said to me, “I’ll leave you to your thoughts.” or was it, “I’ll leave you with my thoughts.”? Either way I should have thanked them…

(Boom goes the industry… Boom goes the eartH in her struggle under the weight of the shock and awe…)

If I knew my thinking would change the truth of things I’d walk around babbling more than taking action.

Who I am is me, and me is who I’m born to be…

(There’s the veil being lifted one breath-stroke at a time!)

What I am is as unknowable as the rain…

My heart beats like the thrumming of Love’s thunder! Like the rain pouring down into open mouths, into the true blue and green rejoicing at my great fortune at having landed in the care of Love.
It came not from above, this cry inside of me. From beneath my feet she summoned me to speak. I’ve been crying out through a method not all my own and the spirit’s have the pathway lined with their love and not their thorns. I’m ready to sing my song. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore than the next, but I sense it is with full Love that these words leave my fingers and fall in line without much thought from me.

(Silence…)

(The darkness cannot hide forever from the light of Love.)

The first thought of my long prayer is generally penned without hesitation, but lately I’ve found myself gazing at a new translation. It is not as confusing as it used to be, this dance with the many spirits that groove to the one moving through the eartH and within her many veins.

(Dance…)

The breeze summons its chill to stumble across my spine and heavenward tumble me Home…

(The sun steals its shadows. War filches its affections, the sun blanches…)

Beauty is in the eye and spirit of the beholder…

(Look at her, Mark Richard Prime! Though you've done her grave injury, she loves you still. Though you’ve imagined yourself king, you’ve, at long last, noticed you've a queen…)

The reasons I vanquished my fear are actually rather simple, belief in them seemed frivolous after stumbling, quite literally, upon a most Heavenly Home.

(The HeartH is where the Heart(H) and the (H)eartH is…)

The loving spirit chooses my course. Love I leave to select my affection from the many that they might ascend to her side and demand more of my self than that of another thing or another spirit.

In the end they all came down to one, the fullness of Love’s spirit. All paths led to Love, some just required what seemed to be too great a sacrifice, too much suffering along the way, so I imagined a loving neverend to this my journey, an eternity with Love…

When (if) the veil is lifted on a permanent basis it will float above me with an assurance that it is indeed the will of Love and God…

(The will can be a tricky thing, for once you landed in Heaven and the newfound spirits began their warble of Love, Mark Richard Prime, you found yourself in a whole heap of ghosts instead of loving spirits. …Ghosts are not meant to be held on to, they’re meant to be let go of.)

The crow cackles its ingestion in the form of an unanswered question, it lands on my lap and strums a rat-a-tat-tat across my stomach and unchains the fearful spirit I carried nearly all of my life! Rat-a-tat-tat and boom boom boom!

(Mother’s been waiting far too long for a savior…)

The exactness of imagination is impossible to visualize, the exactness of place can be more readily memorized…

(A bowed head goes a long way in humbling you, Mark Richard Prime…)

My journey into belief’s unknowable unknown has humbled me as possibilities unfolded before me one frame at a time. One frame held all my fears, the others, an eartH like I’d never imagined before.

(Ignorance might well be bliss to some people, but sightlessness is to none.)

I was blind. I had to have been to have missed her beneath me. Oh! The shame in that alone is nearly enough to spin me out of control within this prayer. I see myself as most guilty at having abused Love, both of the flesh and the spirit. Love hadn’t much reason to have whispered her vision inside of me, my sightlessness, my fearfulness of that which I could not know and of that which I never managed to remember…

Let me remember her flesh and her wings, her nectar and her green, let me pray to what I know, no more praying to belief. Just how long did I imagine I could worship my human mind’s unfortunate imagination without ever sensing that it wasn’t the most important thing to Love? Actions, deeds are the grand tests of my Love.

I deemed her Heavenly the second I laid eyes on her, seemingly for the very first time. Her beauty is one of grace and forgiveness and a most loving truth. She calls to me in the darkness through natures opening scene, to the moon’s beams cascading across the green and blue night. Rejoice! Her symphony of sound comes alive now! The whippoorwill comes round, the cricket trembles its sound, the dog yelps in the yard, and the breeze jangles its kiss across my skin- The stars! The stars gaze upon my journey! Love’s light to shine its kingdom upon my joyful countenance. They are sentinels in wait of my sight’s return after far too many years of its absence…

Love can conquer all. Just ask the Mother. Oh! The eartH, how she surely trembles at my human use? How she administers her affections to the craven mouth bent in supplication upon my horribly barren belief in everything but Home…?

The rumble smashes the ceiling of my dream and I catch the shards in my willing hands. They plunge inside my veins and return me to the scene of the Truth. It is noiseless, it has no noise (fear) within its grasp- it is radiant Love.

(Love hasn’t the capacity to fill its caverns with fear, it recognizes it not. It knows nothing but Life, Laughter and Love, it is a Heavenly Home from which to pray and remember…)

The wind. The wind. The winding wind summons me.

The wind. The wind. The winding wind summons me to speak.

The wind. The wind. The winding wind summons me to engage the spirit and greet the eartH with a kiss.

Bang! Boom! The thought rumbles my insides- I chose to live evermore…

Eternal Life, what’s it really worth? Is eternity truly a gift of our making or some boogeyman under our beds when the unknown is unknowable? Is it worth the risk of eternal agony crafted of our questions? Is it worth it?

(Not half as much as Love…)

The wind blows against my shell and asks if it might have this dance- I oblige.

(Take my hand. You are set to dance evermore, you will fly with the birds my dear, you will soar evermore into the fullness of Love…)

I abscond to my fears when I craft a hell of my affections.

(You lounge in fright as if you own the place, as if something better is set to come along.)

Let me have an honest Love, not a love contrived of wire and flesh, bone and shrapnel…

(Hushhhh… Hear the drum in that?)

The traffic booms its paws across the span of my vision and I’m instantly drawn away and into reality. The nature of things is about to surprise the world.

(If it is dumbfounding, look for God in it…)

It is time. I don’t know what is going on, but if I don’t begin I may not have breath left to speak.

(The locust sound content in their dryness... Missing from the rain is Creation’s loving nectar. What has your kind done to the Mother? Used her up as expendable inside of your rigid beliefs?)

She calls out to me in my deafness and my sightlessness, begging that I see what is before me. There’s a waiting within, pleading I begin…

(Rise up now, child! Commence your dance with Love. She will keep you safe from any more of harm’s tumbling dominoes across the loam of your thoughtless actions.)

I am ready! I am now turning outward toward the sun. Sorry it took me so long to realize who I was. I never danced with the loving spirit long enough…

Where is the adoration of Mother? Has she not bent to my every wish? Have I not scraped her flesh with my ravenous paws long enough? She writhes, yet breathes her full Love still. Let me bring her my full compassion that she might breathe still. Let me be in motion and give her cause to smile upon me…

I don’t know anything, because I’m not supposed to. The spirits within me, however, know more than I have the wits to imagine. My mouth is of use to the spirits, to the Mother, to the (H)eartH of Creation. I promised her I’d scribe! She said, if I’m going to use trees upon which to print ideas, thoughts, belief, then I’d better make it most loving. Otherwise, what’s the point?

I’m dancing with your loving spirit when I pray, yet dancing with the fears of one another’s belief when I am not…

(As if they are known…)

Is there truly anything more deplorable than me spouting off my belief when we’ve all got one of our own to spare? I don’t know diddly squat, as I’ve want to say, so why do I persist, while in prayer, in doing just that? Could it be that truth is also an action verb? That’s crazy!

(Is it?)

Yes. It is why I believe that prayer is personal, yet dually an action verb.


(It could be a game designed from out of your belief(s), belief in the demonstrably unknowable, save one.)

Let’s stop praying to what we believe and start praying to what we know- The eartH. The eartH, and we will, in this belief, suffer less.

But even this belief is one among so many varying hopes and dreams and nightmares and parasitic cravings that need me to see them in the correct light before I can engage them upon even those willing. If I’m going to believe in something so unquestionably, I better have it down to a science, honed to a sharpness whose conclusion is that which benefits both Love and God, both eartH and Creation, both Creator and Created. This is merely a stage in our spiritual evolution, or so I believe, and we are set for loving and believing in what we know, not what we believe of that which is simply unknowable. I pray it is real for me, if another chooses the same that is his or her absolute right to believe as they alone see fit…

But is that not just more of where we’ve always been in terms of our original use? Being in belief? Being among one another at war, at foul play, at murderous tempos found in our machines of misery? This is less of a belief and more of a plea for the Mother eartH that’s bending to our fears and recklessness.

(Silence…)

My instinct tells me I am flirting with conflict, not just the one in my mind, but in all of the minds of the spirits I’ve been dancing with for many years now…

Known or unknown, is there truly a difference between them, save for what I know beneath my feet?

If we choose may we not create a most divine replication of our “Heaven” and not the ruinous model made of fear forming agony?

(Is there truly a model for Heaven?)

Not that I’m aware of. But what do our beliefs paint of Heaven? A safe refuge from God, from the unknown Exactness, or do we sculpt our Heavenly eartH with joy from out of only Love and soar our imaginations into a loving paradise? If it’s not actually Heaven, we win by performing for Creation a righteous duty that benefits all of life. If it does indeed turn out to be Heaven… we’ve already won.

(The wind. The wind. The winding wind blows through paradise. Silence…)

The breeze blows through and for the first time this morning, my prayer soars away, set free of my will and in motion toward the fullness of Love.

If full Love exists inside of me, as I believe, then aren’t I, in effect, praying to my sovereign self? Praying that I might put my prayers into action instead of setting them free out there in the ether somewhere under the impression and with certainty that they’ll be answered requiring no action from me?

(Silence…)

What if I look at prayer as an action word? If I am bent upon knees, wailing at the wall, singing Love’s praises, bowed in reverence, or some other ritual in worship, am I not idle in my prayer? Am I not then, from my idleness, unable to discern if my howling has brought Love’s countenance upon the eartH of Creation’s needs as well as upon humankind, unable to see if it has sputtered and flailed in its firm demise...?

I sometimes forget where I am. I sometimes imagine there’s this fearful plot standing next to me and I fail to recognize its significance to the story unfolding before me. It is most important that I see all actions by others as those of a loving child of Creation guiding me toward Love…

(Anyone’s actions? Good and bad?)

Yes. Am I not able to learn as much or more from the bad as I am from the good?

The birds and their song bring me to realize again where I am.

(How on eartH could you ever forget?)

You’d be surprised what the mind is capable of forgetting.

(Are you kidding me? Everyone sees the machinations that humankind has wrought!)

We may see it, but we’re still not doing enough about it…

Can’t Love bring her fullness to my rescue? I don’t know, which leaves me no alternative but to speak of this. I am not afraid of Love. I welcome its return to its proper place in my thinking…


I don’t know anything, my friends. I know nothing. The only thing I’m able to know is that I’ve chosen the eartH as a paradise like no other in my line of sight, in my thinking, in this spirited belief…

(Why don’t you just call it “your” belief and stop hem-n-hawing about this and that belief, spirited or otherwise?)

It is not just mine. I do not own even the truth in what I imagine to be the one Exactness, how can I? If it is unknowable it is unknown, and, if it is unknown, it is not mine.

(Convoluted a bit, Nimrod, but made sense…)

I am urgently trying to find a reason to give my belief over to Love that she might shape it as she sees fit. Problem is I don’t know if that is what is required of me in order for it to be acceptable? I don’t know if giving my belief over to Love is the sure way of having Creation accept it or if I will be seen as a coward, an idle steward who’s hesitation left more suffering than Love the chance to rise up with her remedy.

(That’d be a glorious day!)

Speaking of glorious- it’s nice to hear your reassuring voice this morning, Curmudgeon.

(Oh shut up!)

Silence…

*~*

The eartH is Home.

(When you realize where you are, within the Heart(H) of Creation, will you clank your teeth in rage and walk about like a zombie marching toward your tragic demise, or will you react, take action that she might change her mind about you?)

I pray she senses my regret! Pray she sees my sorrow, but I mostly pray that she senses my joy at finally having recognized Home…

(The certainty found in belief is either strangely elusive or strangely convinced of itself.)

The truth, though unknown and unknowable in the flesh, seems to have me in its grasp, or so I believe. Yet in its unknowable state doesn’t it stand to reason that the only alternative, at this phase of my existence, is that I believe it to be true? And in that isn’t there the possibility that I’m wrong and therefore I should not, cannot end my belief for fear that I’ll end it too soon and sacrifice Love’s say in the outcome of her truth?

(Quite the conundrum.)

*~*

The youth are vastly important to the eartH, the child is most precious to Love, to The Mother and to the (H)eartH of Creation.

(Thought you said you believed everyone was a child of Creation?)

Yes. To the Mother, to the Father, and to the eartH of Life. I believe within the significance of the fresh and pliable mind of the young child is found a simple question- Do I raise them up to be like me, virulent consumers of fear and sorrow, or do I raise them up as proud stewards/angels of Love and joy?

(Are you afraid that you might be on to something? That if you do finally grasp such an obvious answer, you’ll become zombies with regard to your summoned failure within the question itself?)

Quite the conundrum.

(Silence…)

Oh Love! You are here! Where have I been all of Life? Did I imagine this world at war, this world colliding with its children, its offspring of belief and flesh without sufficient Love?

I admit that belief and God and Love are merely constructs of our thinking. If we think we’re set to be in Heaven while believing in hell and damnation for eternity, we need see that that is no different than implementing peace while waging war.

(Think! Think, Mark Richard Prime! Think upon your belief and imagine you are in Heaven already… and evermore to boot, and then imagine for a second the literal joy you dispersed with too little affection compared to the fullness of Love you ever managed to be summoned from your joy…)

If this is your belief, Love, I’ll give mine to you evermore…

(What? A wee bit of fear bubbled up in that, Mark? Let’s not forget how difficult and serious you’ve made my mind beneath your fearful affections and instead of making the spirit of Love, that which is in us all, rise to the occasion of suffering no more, eternal bliss, you chose to wage war…)

Love! I will find the passion for Love and Love and Love and never stop! The day Fear wins is the day agony rears its head, like now, like then, before Love came to the rescue! Love is the savior, for with Love comes Love and with Love comes Love. Fear should be drowning of Love, not the other way around…

Love feels every toxin I add to her through my ignorance, what I created from out of Heaven. Not the evermore Heaven, for who knows, right? No. I mean the possibilities’ are limitless Heaven, limited only to the prerequisite that I remember where I am…

If I am in heaven, can I not reveal the implicitness in my relationship with nature, the natural environment, more than the one that I’d imagined?

I’m sharing my belief and Love is helping me shape it. God and Allah and Christ and Love are mere words, I should feel free to call “it” whatever name I, as a sovereign being, choose. If it’s carved out of the granite of Love, a diamond will be found in the rough…

I Love each of you equally, there’s no need to tarnish it any longer. She is waiting, why are we?

Who of you does not want to act…?

In this Life of Love and Laughter why would I have believed in the duality of Love swimming more with fear than with itself…?

(Mark Richard Prime needed your help, Love, but you didn’t recognize his anguish beneath that Cheshire grin and that happy go lucky infestation of Love’s repellent he so easily doused upon his joy!)

For years now I’ve had my mind set on just being while devouring all the love I could that I might now rise to the occasion that is before me.

They’ve seen me in my nakedness, in my private thoughts that some spirit set in motion, that escaped as if it were a very real and present fear. I am dancing with kindness, humbleness, graciousness, and adoration, and I’m cherishing this moment and creating the best thing I can imagine and still believe in…

If there is trouble within my dance with Love, it is the Fear brought along (or taken) for safety, not Love. Leave fear empty so that Love can be full. Life and Love were meant to be entirely joyous.

Rejoice! Heaven’s a loving gesture away. Time is irrelevant.

My choice is simple. Those that have experienced more of my fear than my Love, I am most sorry and indebted to your allowing me to dance with your spirits in the first place, but the dance has served a greater purpose, to usher these spirited words being summoned.

(Silence…)

I am trying to recall the spiritual journey taken those three weeks of my life. What could have occurred that held my guilt in with such ferocity for nearly thirty years? Have I created a belief by rejecting any and all Fear, I don’t know? All I believe is that everything’s going to be okay.

(How would you “know” that?)

I wouldn’t, I believe it beyond doubt. I want the world to be in laughter, not smothering Love with fear that she might end her breathing and inadvertently kill Love by despoiling the Heart(H) of Creation. Do that and I would imagine I’d land again in agony (hell) instead of breaking through fear’s teeth and bringing forth Heaven from out of the ashes…

Yes! I can pray without it, but the story ends when my flipped upside-down brain turns right side up of its thinking. Two layers, Love and Fear. I’ve been through the fear that has manifested my beliefs. I turned back before it was too late.

(It’s all of you, Mark Richard Prime, them, they- those people and those there and those over there and those here!)

Oh my love! I see your pattern! It is lit by Love and Forgiveness!

The way I chose to give my belief over to Love meant that I was dancing with your spirits because I chose to and promised to do so. The idea is simple, Love begets Love, instantly.

In no “time” Love snaps her fingers and the dance turns into rain!

I believe that if I let my Love dance with your Love, we’ll both delight in the rain as brother and sister’s of Love…

If I am not able to pray as I see fit to the great unknowable then I should be allowed to pray to what I know as the (H)eartH sees fit…

It’s ludicrous to imagine I can only pray to the unknown! How preposterous is that? Do I not own the guilt of what I do and have done? Is that the next level to reach? Am I near the top?

What I do and where I am matters more than anything my upside-down head can imagine. My actions have always outspoken my words, my words have just cleverly disguised themselves as fear in sheep’s clothing…

Boom! Goes the thunder before this rain, but this morning the clouds seemed as if they were painted for all to see, a work of art crafted of nothing but Love. I asked my wife to take a look before she went off to work. It was only a moment, but that moment meant more to my spirit and to my day than the subsequent hours combined.

She is The Mother, The Grandmother and set to sense the Great and Grand Mother, like all women are, all in my belief. They are one of the countless cherished events upon the eartH of Creation. Mothers are divine and there is no way around that.

My lovely angel, she’s nearer to Love than I have yet to fathom. Men’s wars alone have summoned a surplus of fear, a murderous march toward the unknowable with pride and might, but not with the fullness of Love…

I find them dear, these thoughts sent up with Love, yet never too far from off of the ground that I forget where I am ever again!

(Are you serious with that last one, Nimrod?)

What?

(Dear? What would you know about holding someone or anything dearly, Mark?)

The wind. The wind. The winding wind. The rain patters its Love into the dry soil. Do I not think she has a remedy for my foul use? Hadn't I best pay attention to my instincts now and give belief a rest? Hadn't I best begin the Love leg of my journey, I’d been absent of its song for too long, I’d forgotten where and who I am. I am a child of creation, like you and you and you and you and all and everything, as far as I am able to discern.

I let it flow into me, my friends, her loving embrace and acceptance of who I truly am beneath the mask I crafted from my fears.

The truth rested, it only stirred when I imagined less and believed more in what I knew.

It’s a conundrum to be sure. Is it more important to believe or is it more important to know? I say both. They need the other to breathe. Belief is ready to dance. It is I that found it hard to do without any Fear that stemmed from the guilt of how I’ve treated the Great and Grand Mother, Love…?

Rage has bared its teeth for the last time, until the next shadowy thought emerges from within a fearful belief. I should try to relax a bit and prove I remember where I am by my actions toward the eartH. If I bless her with my talents, gifts bestowed by Creation, if I cleanse my foul use she’ll rise up as my redeemer. It will be evident that time has been a large part of my fearful offence upon the eartH. With time I rush my thinking and it finds itself chained to fear. In this belief, I’m ushered away from all fear and left to dance with the fullness that is the whole of Love…

I sought you out dear brother and sister, knowing that what I said was countermand to your belief, and I only did it because the spirit moved me to it, Love, as far as I can tell of our dance. Why or how could I have denied my newfound spirit the sound it deserved when the eartH demanded that I speak? The Spirit of Love, dear brother and sister, cannot and will not be denied her day in court…

(Do not disparage another’s actions like you’re so fond of ridiculing another’s belief, Mark Richard Prime, actions speak louder than all of the fear found in your human thinking. If you hadn’t watered down your instincts so much, you might have recalled who and where you were long before now, saving the eartH from even more suffering at your complicit hands. Ironically enough, you find yourself behind in action, especially as a part of the collective human race, young in your tenure to Life’s sacred kingdom. )

Tragically ironic…

(Shouldn't you be letting go of your belief now, Mark Richard Prime?)

I am. It’s like a dam with a small fissure set to release the full pressure of my injury so long ago, not necessarily in this lifetime, in this phase of my loving, but set to release full Love nonetheless…

(The eartH is sovereign of my human thinking. She is unto herself, not unto thee…)

All of these words pour forth with an urgency that will not and cannot be denied. It is Love that sends me forth to reckon with my fears before I speak. It is Love that comforts my trepidations of what ifs and what for, and I’m tired of sacrificing my actions, my words and voice to the status quo. Sacrificing action, letting it dangle there waiting for Creation to snatch it up. I must be speaking it now, the spirit’s are getting restless, waiting for a belief that they can recognize as a loving story and act according to its merits, its Love over its fear, its grace before its urgency, its forgiveness above its pride, its joy over its sorrow, truth, not lies.

(Rejoice when you discern the difference between belief and something that is known within an environment that is mostly unknowable…)

It may sound familiar, but I've crafted a new layer of Love within it. I hope you find this prayer worthy of repeating... __Anonymous

The end and the beginning are unseen. It is life’s mystery. I needn't concern the self with the hereafter I need concern myself with the now. "Time" is irrelevant...

The ark has set sail at last. I rejoice at your great fortune! The eartH waits on me if I’ll but believe…

This game has been afoot longer and more times than I care to imagine, than I've hope of remembering, yet I must, and it is beyond the frame of human, beyond the man-made thing called time- Tick tock goes the fool late for the truth again...

Overtime! How many is hard to imagine, but this one is my chance to make it Home without suffering anymore at my craven hands. Love, awaken! Love, awaken! Love come forth that you might heal my wounds and offer another breath to worship what’s known deep inside my soul! Open my heart and let Love flow! Out, flow out, pour from your every pore, raise it up!

Give until I can’t give anymore, stand up and be heard! I tell Love, the eartH of Creation, that I will no longer participate in this game of indifference! I bow to the eartH of Love before she swallows me whole…

When her sorrow will not subside, I’d better begin to heal or Love’ll toss me out of its eartH until I return to try again...

I've heard that all life is suffering, and I'd say that even includes the joyful times, for they carve out the cavern with laughter that stores my oft hidden shame…

Is there a point to any of this? To belief which is unknowable in every sense but itself I do not bow, to what I know beneath my feet I give credence… This lesson, this new round of existence, we’ll have no need for anything other than Love, a new beginning, a new belief that summons full Love as if she were Superhero of the eartH. Without connection to that which brings me howling with regret at what I'd done to the Mother, I lift my voice to nothing short of what I know. If it is belief, I recall that it must be taken to task for its inherent flaw, it can be changed, altered to fit fear's finger and ruin Love's vow with Creation...

The second time around has been daunting for a while, but, now that I've vanquished fear, the beauty and awe and logic and instinct and the great unknowable unknown potential within are given the chance to create. If it pleases the one Exactness, the eartH in our hemisphere, then it will be summoned forth to prove her love for thee. It's what I believe beyond a sliver of an nth of fear. Rejoice! Belief is empty if it’s not crafted of full Love...

Craft belief from your Love and not your fear and you will have garnered the attention of the eartH...

Eternity is a long time, it makes time irrelevant.

(Is that what you desire, an eternity of the unknown?)

I do if it is full Love, and I believe it is, but I know there are those that would rather sleep forevermore in the bliss of the subconscious at rest in the impatient night, the slumber in the truth of dreams.

Dreams do come true, I’d imagine. In the next go around, the one we find ourselves in anon, will be nearer to Heaven than anything found in belief…

I found Love, she is beneath my feet like a snake, waiting for me to make just one more misstep.

(One more? How many mistakes can one make?)

Depends on the fear within one’s belief, precisely why I settle for Love and only Love as the material found in my belief…

This is insane, I imagine you imagining.

(Is it insane?)

No. It's the amount of Love within it that brings me to see it. It’s the fearful belief that I cannot believe, not with good conscience, it falls short of complete and utter Love. It contains a punishment that is only imagined. When belief becomes considered something that is “known”, the pavement begins to crack around our use and she rises not to our rescue, but summons instead our ever sleep and we fade into the fibers of the unknowable unknown to sleep in bliss evermore. My belief can only summon Love and nothing less…

(Rejoice when you begin to search your Home with new eyes!)

I was talking to God and he handed the phone over to Love. The strict lesson of where I was became too great for my tiny mind to imagine, believe and know...

What if nothing comes of this, I asked myself? Who wouldn’t, right? What if nothing comes of this belief, what use was I to it and it to you, my fellow stewards set to move as angels toward Love’s (H)eartH? Rejoice that free will was given that we might create a human prayer upon the one work of art that tops all others, the (H)eartH of Creation’s Heart(H), the Heart and eartH, the HeartH of Love…

Welcome home…

You think I’m not ready, don’t you spirit? You imagine me wallowing as I’ve always done, but this course is not so easy to follow with all the roadblocks we put up to keep us from recognizing the whole of her Love!

The eartH, the Mother eartH.

It is written backwards to mask the suffering as another’s fault, or Creation’s doing, or belief’s comeuppance, or righteousness disguised as the murderer of evil when Love is the target all along…

(Think! Think for a second!)

I trust in Love. She has always caught me after I’ve fallen away from her gravity. She’s never failed me. I, on the other hand, have most certainly failed her. I have treated her unkindly, I have misrepresented her love, I have abused my privileges with her far too many times, it is now hers to keep, this loving belief, she will decide, not you, not me, but she! The Mother gets the last word to us human’s of flesh and bone. We must heed her ode as if meant for our individual selves, her thinking beasts as children on their way to the unknowable future that waits in the wings for our laughter. Our Life, our Laughter and our Love are ready to dance their way out of hell and into everlasting Heaven.

We’ve written this script for ourselves long ago. Our beliefs have shaped our Heavenly story into a makeshift hellish yarn. It’s time to mend the fence.

You can’t win dear brother, there is no win in Heaven, there is only won. What you do with what you know, trumps anything that you might have believed. Careful what you imagine to be true, by your fervent prayer, it’ll rear its head. It’s not something I know, yet I believe in it as if I do, not unlike you or you or you. We are all sovereign entities, incorruptible in the loving spirit, yet able to mask this inherent Love in our self-made and pointless fear. Let us recognize our failure of duty, let us begin our dance back to her, to Home, a Heaven if we want it to be? We shape our future. We shape it in this next go around in Heaven. Why did we ever get tired of Heaven as our Home? When did our Home become a living hell of belief and paranoia?

I feel fine…

(Then the Spirit of Love has been returned to its fullness…)

I feel fine. I didn’t say I felt Love with a capital L.

(In time, dear spirit, in time. You’re eyes are still trying to adjust to the light…)

It’s been written, and then rewritten upside down and it took me a while to figure it out, that manmade hell was beneath my feet all along and it was up to me to change that fact within my loving perceptions…

I’ve always seen love in you, brother. You were winded from its thrash and thrashing from its wind. Puffed up and blind, as the rest, to what truly rested beneath my feet, that of my own making, my own design, my own self-fulfilling prophecy of gloom and doom. And I’ve seen her majesty at long last, recognized the Mother in her…

I believe if I was asked to create a belief from out of the imagination of the unknowable, then I’ve given Love top billing and allowed her time to steady the world’s drums…

Now is the time, to begin in earnest, to walk the walk and, if need be, talk the talk.

Now is the time for me to rid myself of any belief and return to what I know, to love her with my precious, original vow.

We all must struggle past our fears and into the ready creation of Love.

The truth is not as mysterious as it’s made out to be. Beneath the feet is the eartH of Creation, above my head, the heaven’s unmatched show that I may remember where I am…

If the eartH senses our loving gestures and we sow our living with Life, Laughter and Love, we’ll not have need to imagine we’d speak of anything other if it meant she would suffer as a result of our beliefs- ownership of that which can never be owned in the least. To imagine we’ve rights to the eartH’s soil, air, water, forests, rivers and streams, rights to the rolling oceans, lakes, and seas, we must be foolhardy humans to dream such a fearful dream, yet most tragic to take even one step toward full agony’s eventual birth…

The wind whistles above the neighbor’s roofing noise, the songbird’s gone silent in this prayer, only to rise in the backdrop as a silent note carried by my mind into such a lovely source of goodness moving humankind to Laughter, Life and Love.

There is no dismissal of this thought, this belief that has my spirit locked in with Love and I’ve come this far, so why would I turn back?

You do and you’re a complete fool. A complete and utter coward is one that turns his back on Love! We mortals have a new chapter upon us, a chapter of angels in the HeartH of Love, Heavenly eartH. A pact with the Mother and with Life, stay the course and treat her with joyous affection that she might sense our humbled prayer…

Written backwards to trap us inside of our own concoction of hell, agony come tumbling out in our sightless confusion and of our hungry paws. Our greed will deliver its sway and we won’t be expecting its echo to show up and take it all away…

Let us remember where we are, evermore…

This is the spirit, not in prayer, but in silence.

Before I danced, I imagined myself swept up in the Spirit- She moaned, I wept…

The breeze again blows through only this time as I pray.

The truth exists. The truth is unknowable in the flesh and maybe even in the spirit. I imagine, I do not know that the spirit sees nearer to exactness, I merely believe. The mountains are sacred in my belief, the water is sacrosanct, the soil is most loved and the air is sweet. In my belief the eartH is sovereign, on her shores nothing is owned, life is not taken for granted, as long as she breathes. Humankind must recall their duty, their original promise to the living eartH.

(Remember, this eartH breathes and she’ll not hesitate to mend man’s venomous march with her undulating grief.)

Do I wait for a sign to hold me away from further destruction, or do I wait for her to speak her choice without need of further instruction? Will I understand her meaning only too well when instinct deliberates further instruction…?

When sleep calls, the spirit will speak in my dreams.

This journey is not mine alone to take. It’s your power of belief too that brought humankind here, that opened this human’s eyes that I might see her clearly, blind before, seeing after. How could I have recognized where I am if distracted by gadgets instead of doing my duty to the eartH?

I have placed it in Love’s care, my belief in Love, my belief in Creation’s creations. I might have died several times over by the time my use is over for good.

There’s some time yet. The happiness is what I want to see, the unbridled joy at having breathed one breath to begin with on these hallowed grounds of Home. Set your laughter free, open your lungs and breathe in Love and Love in breath…

You are the heroes. You are the ones that are forced to hear belief, yet would rather hear what is known.

(A blessing or a curse?)

The clench came dreaded as the days of war, the sabotage- mine to befall the crown upon the queen Mother’s Heart(H) of Creation.


(Did you find the eartH a living organism? Did you also find the (H)eartH to be the Heart(H) of all of Creation, as far as you imagined the unknowable?)


But it is not unknown. She is the Mother eartH, the one hope, humankind’s savior! She has come to bid me wake from my tired slumber of Love and instead feast my open eyes upon her most Heavenly spirit?


Did you not want me to proceed with a vengeance upon my cowardice? Did you not want me to tumble headlong down your gleeful path into the fullness of Love? I chose to create Heaven instead of a hellish scene. Instead of allowing the Creator, whatever it might be, to discipline humankind as the Mother saw fit, we imagined ourselves stories with human fear cloaked in righteousness as the end to all of this.


I alone do not craft this song, the songbird’s melody, the late night breeze, the sounds of the eartH’s heavenly gifts beneath the traffic’s roar do summon this belief. The will of Love that is within all living things, and their spirits, lifts my fingers in dance to an unquenchable urge, and spills forth a story that has me rapt and moving with Love. I am arriving as was planned too long ago to recall, yet implemented with a swiftness that this scribe never imagined existed within his jangling wits. The words pour out backwards and I do my best to arrange them in the order that they deserve.


For Love’s sake, help me, please? I need your full love my friends and family. I need you now more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my known existence.


(Rejoice when you feel her breath upon your neck. Rejoice as she prays for her children to heed her pleas! Cleanse her shores, her water and her air! Bring her cause to show mercy on wayward angels.)


I chose Love over fear, help me settle the debt before she trembles her regret and moves to witness humankind’s dismissal.


Don’t want to be in agony, don’t. Don’t want to go on warring into oblivion, don’t. Don’t want to suffer such a tragic end to humankind, don’t. Don’t want to believe in anything, don’t. We’ve done her no favors. No turn of prayer can make up for our actions. We’ve attempted to smother her with our inventions and our beliefs.


I am a mortal man through and through, I’m you, I’m me, I summoned full Love and Love heard my plea and begged me to act, prayed that I speak.


Savor life, begin to love, reap the laughter and you’ll sow delight upon the Mother eartH. Begin to heal the eartH of a foul venom before Creation says enough and heals the eartH in the only way Creation sees fit.


If my belief is that it doesn’t matter what I believe, then all I’ve left is my believing in what I have the ability to know. I need shape my belief that it doesn’t destroy life in any way shape or form, and instead bow to the majesty of water, air and soil. Gladness is praying, is pursed upon my human lips, for joy in the eartH is all that’s asked of me.


(For the love of the eartH, do something!)


I am…

Who knows when exactly I began to dance with full Spirit, I found myself tethered to the fearful spirit swimming by, and more fearful of my story of love, as if theirs weren’t the same, just flipped upside down. Agony and Heaven don’t come last, they come first!

I will abide by what The Mother and the eartH have to provide within a loving belief and I will say that this belief is everyone’s for it is absolute Truth!

(Boom goes Creation, boom goes God, boom goes the Mother, boom sends her children full Love.)

One is human and one is eartH, one is the giver of all Life, the other shares her genetic love with the Mother and Father eartH, the Grandmother and Grandfather, the Great Grand Mother, all women, the Great Grand Father, all men, all.

(Good point.)

The children are sacrosanct all. They have more full love within them, it’s just what the doctor ordered! Not propagating my kind into oblivion, but into a fullness of Love found in the spirit of the (H)eartH…

Yes my Love! Right away my Love! The wedding was to three, moving outward toward thee. I had to shed a few pounds and go through a very long cycle of fear to wind up right here!

(What?)

Which one might have less forgiveness for the meek? The trembling, and their indifference, or a crafting of full on rage and greed?

(My money’s on the craft…)

Forget what you and I believe, and even much of what we know. Let the unknowable float away now to bring the eartH back to our sight, back Home. The love found I, and her sounds and my words match my each and every action. Relax. It’ll come with some confusion if your brain is scrambled like mine, but it will pass if you slow down your thinking and breathe in Love and Love in breathing.

Breathe In Breath, Love everything. The word has been corrupted for far too long, but it’s been corruptible from the very start! Our thoughts, oh my, surely our thoughts won’t take control of our minds and we become the zombies we scribed into our own self-fulfilling fantasies?

Let her breathe for Love’s sake! Let her breathe! She will come to her children’s rescue if we’ll but summon her through our deeds! Our deeds to the Mother eartH! She awaits our bidding, she awaits our motion, our lunge to save all Life!

(Breathe and Love, Love and Breath…)

Love everything and all and if there are those whom I’ve offended, I beg of you to forgive me. Forgive my path, forgive my words, even my unknown and unknowable last words before I fell away from the Mother’s grip, and then did for far too many years, go wayward, instead of going with Love’s flow! She moves with her might, she creates her own rhythm, she dances her own spirit into eternal bliss, she is the weaver of such Love, I am merely her scribe enlisted to write down my dreams, my prayers, do not take away my right to prayer as I see fit! I am a sovereign entity.

It is God and God is Love and she is Love and Love is God.

(Again!)

It is God and God is Love and she is Love and Love is God.

(The scribe sometimes gets lost in the wisdom having to travel across his human brain and back again until it all somehow makes sense…)

These are the word-thrummed moments that sometime stop me in my tracks! They are dances I’ve had while dreaming deeply about Truth without knowing, or believing who I was. I, like you, am a child of Creation, the eartH is my Life and caregiver above all and anything else that I might imagine what suits the Heaven of my belief…

I need you to come to me, I believe I might have believed my thinking into being seen and heard- it means more than even seems possible…

I don’t know who the voices are now, there are too many to allow me to distinguish! The hell they’ve stumbled down the mountain that is their fear has been lifted and they are left with an overwhelming affection for Life, for Love and for Laughter…

They all speak at once, this incredible journey in my mind, to find out exactly who I am! I have gone back for long enough, now it’s time to begin the pathway into full Love…

(Reload, lock ‘em down and shimmy out your hole, it’s time to boogie throughout the night and watch those fireworks explode! Love wins, hands down or hands up, she wins without question, the summary of her claim…)

We feel love, Love feels we…

Love and love. Now love can’t see over the dash, so Love takes the wheel and steers. The rest is up to our sight, and I pray it’s not our fears that steer our course!

The kind is we. There are medicines upon her skin that bring round such angels as thee…

Mother, Grandmother, and Great-Grandmother each should be my highest honor to know and my great privilege to be steward of- this thinking beast must bring full Love and the precious turn in the spirit…

In me is the spirit’s woeful prayer, now silent since the joyful prayer began in earnest. -Boom shock a locka locka boom! I can bring my belief out to greet you or I can sleep evermore if I choose! Nothingness or Truth, if it would be so kind to reveal itself through our Love to the Mother eartH…

(I’ll give you a hint, Nimrod! You’re a guest in her Home while your belief takes hold of the truth and begins its most haunted of scenes upon your return to the surface of Heaven, greeted in chaos and fear.)

Well what have we here? She is dancing her spirit before me. I am blind, oh when might I see?

(Patience my child, I am with you. Hush your fears, Mother’s Home. Shhh… Sleep now dear one until I call on you in prayer.)

*~*

(There isn’t a map for any of this, there’s only belief.)

For being a tool, belief, it sure has some staying power. It’s all interconnected with the spirit of Love- instinct, joy, laughter, hope, worship, prayer, hope.

(I plead the fifth.)

Me too…

~

If we are able now to choose eversleep with quenched satisfaction, a fullness of the Loving spirit’s return, we can (some might imagine this to be hell) enter a world of belief that all is Love in the neverend and we are stewards of the eartH of Creation, shoulder to shoulder. How long will it last before someone stops believing in any order at all? Is there a shutoff valve upon belief?

(Yes. It’s called truth…)

Only a God of Love, a Love of God, Love above all and everything known to our existence wears the crown so proudly. We have work to do before Heaven reveals her Love, but don’t worry, she’s overflowing with Love. Sorry if you were expecting something other than full Love, some better variety than the fullness of Love. I was too busy to notice, really…

(Patience is a virtue…)

Isn't anyone willing to just come out and say it?

(You.)

I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality... I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word. __Martin Luther King, Jr.

It was at that moment that the poets observed the famished eartH, a sight worth sharing, peace and brotherhood, the revolutionaries of humankind making their way, stepping to the dream of freedom.


(If a person hasn't discovered something that they will die for, they haven’t begun to live.)


Now spirit up your voice stewards! Remember your plea to the heavens, recall the days of sacrifice and chains, never let slip their lessons. We’ve heard them spoken time and again; words radiating a sky of courage residing within the divine rights of all life; a hunger to be esteemed and always free.


They cannot erase our fingerprints. They may shackle and beat our flesh, but they cannot cage our collective hope. They may bring us to our knees, terrify our wits, but never can they remove the indelible wish.


It’s long in coming now, these many years of wavering wings, fading embers and loveless wars. Have you heard the pluck of liberty dancing upon the strings? It’s nearing Home; our heart, most ready to live if we’ll but greet the eartH with a great Love!


It was at that moment, The instant that the bullet released its quake and moved across the eartH’s soul like a bow, bidding us to soar above the wounds of humankind, in that instant, the child of peace began its long journey, the poor, the tired, the tangled masses did begin to move; the strings this murder had set aquiver commenced to stir a famished (H)eartH.


(Love, peace and goodness to all and everything, imagined or otherwise...)




© 2010 by mark prime - © 2012 by the spirits dancing with mark richard prime

We might need a bigger Love than the one we’ve been believing in. We’ll need full Love to deliver us from the unknowable. It may well be that she is most ready, and needn’t another child to imagine for her another…

(What the heck are you going to do if you don’t or can’t imagine anything?)

Consider myself lucky, look where beliefs have dragged the eartH, there’ll be no need for another! What a damned waste, undecided spirit!

(Me? What tragedy would you craft of her unrequited Love, scribe?)

I wouldn’t. This belief is a Love story. Mother, Father, Grandmother, Grandfather, Great-Grandmother, Great-Grandfather, sister, brothers, uncles, aunts, nieces and nephews, cousins and family and all and everything! I tell you that I deserve what might come my way while on the pathway from Love, it’s the pathway to Love that makes up for my sightlessness.

(But now you see. You need return to your abilities born of angels and begin your sworn duty and walk with full Love…)

It’s not too heavy?

(Only the fear is weighty, but the Love, it soars across the sacred grounds of the eartH of Love…)

Relax, the final lesson is near its completion. I trust in Love to deliver. I reject fear as best as I’m capable, but if it does get in, I find it and send it packing with its rage…

(How many scenarios have you been through, Mark?)

Innumerable.

(And to what end?)

Like I said before, there is no end. I am caught up inside of neverend, I was upside down, now I’m right side up…

(You weren’t blind, Nimrod, you were seeing things in reverse.)
.
I had to. If I had seen the truth from the get go, I’d have been put away for being nuts, but as it turns out, being the way I am has saved me from seeing even my own actions for what they were and are. I see my actions as a most valuable dance, one that can garner me eternal joy, or one that can deliver me into indifference evermore…

Less hell, more like a miniscule moment in time, yet packed with the thorns of any I’ve earned before. The love that I feel is not coincidental, it’s spiritual…

Mr. Bartender, Rich, you tested me and for that, my dear friend, I am grateful. Your spirit danced in me like Jimmy Hendrix and Eric Clapton quivering their strings across Love’s grounds, across paradise, over a Heaven, that, until recently, was just imagined…

(Silence…)

What if that was Love’s intentions, for you to have to believe in her fully enough that you hadn’t need of ever imagining or even dreaming of another more Heavenly than she…?

(Heaven born and Heaven sent, Heavenly home. The birds and the sun are a canopy for the truth, not for illusion…)

My belief is mine, it is precious, but there is the bit about less suffering that stops me or starts me, depending on your perspective.

(That and it might just be cherished by the eartH yet is not necessarily the words of merely one, but all spirits. Yes. Deep within all humans and all of Life is the one spirit.)

How do you know which is less suffering, humankind’s continued use, or God and Love’s will?

(Silence…)

Yes.

(Remember?)

Recalled at silence…

(You entered in stoutly like a bull crafted from the flesh of the fearful spirits!)

Act. Do not wait for the eartH to rumble her sorrowful song, to smother her creation, to salvage what she can of the spirits stomping all over full Love without regard to her breathing! We must ready ourselves for the inundation of the Spirit of Love, not the stampede of fear that will tell our minds that there’s something better the intelligence of (hu)mankind can create!

(Humankind has built more weapons against themselves one belief at a time, instead of any of the Truth that you could possibly know moving your way from those spirits that have so fearfully woven through themselves into you and become your belief! Fearful righteousness is blather compared to the rape of the eartH!)

She is my beholden, she is my beholden, my truth…

(Remember- Your brother loves you, the truth in that is most full, overflowing with the dreams of humankind brought forth through fearful belief!)

Examine Love&God, GodLove can take a few questions, Love’s had enough of my spirited pleas, my woeful howling to escape an imagined justice and its sway.

(Judge Exactness, not the dreamt of monster in Heaven’s bitter hell…)

Remember, when my brother love’s me, I cannot help but seek those that strive toward something different, that are wrapped up in my belief’s torrent, probably against their will. Yet when Heaven roars it is forever and a day, a single day, not hours, but daylight falling to its sleep.

It pours out of me like a great flood. It brings me to kneel before the queen! She, my lovely angel Love, deserves my attention, not more abuse, so I obey. But the eartH can’t take much more of this foul human use, so what do I do?

(Your wits have fallen to fear, better get busy making up for all that guilt, Mark Richard Prime!)

It’s time! Halleluiah it is time! I am going to the cabins with my family, mi familia, Love, kinship, Love, compassion, Love, charity with and from that which was never “ours” to begin with, it is sacred, whatever he or she or he/she, or she/he or it, or full Love, whatever it might be.

(Fullness of the eartH of Creation, her majesty, of The Great-Grandmother, Love, you can imagine.)

She is my beholden and she is set to pour forth her wonder and her joy of birth upon me if I’ll but search my heart and come out with my prayerful hands in the air, she enters in without notice…

(Yes she did and she does, Mark Richard Prime.)

It’s not who I am any longer, the Grandmother begged my forgiveness and I promised I would do the same, now I bow at the foot of Love and she instructs me on how to proceed- the spirit of my wife is one of pure forgiveness, so you might understand if I’m a bit reticent to seem anymore unstable than I might already appear to be.

Oh! The spirit does like wordplay, jousting at humankind with sticks and stones, from the beginning of humankind to the neverend. Not from the beginning of life. No. Humans are responsible for their Home. Home is where the Heart(H) is. Pay attention to her call. The songbird brings forth full Love if I’ll but listen.

(Turn off all of your foul machines, the distraction and destruction is upon humankind, not the whole of Life, Mark Richard Prime.)

I just crashed within a vision that is hidden beneath the written word, that they’ll soon have to be spoken by a man who is taken deep within a never ending belief, a belief, that over time, the truth becomes it and is not human’s to dissipate. It must, it must- It will be spoken!

(Does not a man that cannot speak a loving truth become less than a man?)

Yes.

(But does he remain the same man he had become, years of diminishing to the measure of the fearful spirit?)

I know! I know the spirit of the man called Jesus Christ. If not him, then I’ve danced with the spirit that’s longed for freedom from the shackles of belief…

(He spoke of Love, did he not? He spoke of Truth, did he not? Then what of charity without god-awful profit? What of humankind, as a whole? Mustn’t humankind come to some sort of agreement as the children of the one seed, a peace so profound that it shocks even the fullness of Love?)

It stuns her, imagined I. The key to humankind’s survival courses through all veins- the eartH, the sky, the spirit, the river, the mountain, the stream, the children of the (H)eartH of Creation, and the spirit of the child…

Like a bullet this truth cascades throughout my prayerful words, through the taint of humankind, the expense of the eartH.

(Does he come around like he must or does he cascade like all the rest into a fearful and cheerless belief…?)

I chose Love.

(You’ve said that a million times, brother. When are you going to put that prayer in motion, after the approaching doom of your imagination, the approaching doom upon the sons and daughters of man?)

What awaits you, dear spirit?

(Heck if I know! Ask the eartH. She’ll tell you…)

~

I’m so far behind…

(Perhaps you’re right on time?)

Either way, everything’s going to be okay, did wager Love. It’s simple. Always remember where I am and I shall find that I am in the Heaven of my belief. Rejoice! I am Home!

Sing it loud and sing it clearly, bring them to seek their own completeness into full Love and you’ll see where the spirits imagined they we’re the only ones that knew where we were the whole time!

(How is that even possible?)

Simple answer- it’s not. Complicated answer, after my regiment of prayer, it isn’t and it is, depending on how strong belief is. I can raise it into action or I can put off any longer the gravity of this belief stirring inside my prayer, do away with it. The rest will come soon enough, it’s my voice that I forsake, it’s my spirit of self, the who, what and where of my belief, that I will have forsaken, deserting the Truth because I wasn’t aware that knowing it was up to the spirit’s hard at work correcting their own grave errors along with mine own, the guilt of humankind’s treatment of the eartH…

If for any other reason than that you know the truth behind my being gone. That you realize, that even you, dear brother and sister, have been a part of my reality and had, in my belief, been a part of my evolving belief. The script’s being written from my end to a new beginning. Everything has been upside down. The up-downside of Love is where my journey began and where any seeking must begin, even that which was planned while straying from the eartH of Love. Let me see, I pray, that this is Love without question, and that Love, in my belief, trumps anything and all that can be the architect of something as spectacular as the eartH. Magnificent! So much so that it enters inside of God, within all of Creation’s wonder! It cascades down the veil, and so elegantly lifted to let slip Heavenly eartH, surprising me and The Mother’s and daughter’s, Father’s and son’s of GodLove’s Creation.

(A union into one, Mother and Father, Mother eartH, Love and God, Spirit and Humankind. You are literally a part of Creation, Mark Richard Prime, not separate from it. You are literally the design of Love and God.)

Love’s been winning the day since almost all of my belief poured out upside down. I promised I’d be a steward of this Heavenly eartH in the best way that the Spirit of Love see’s fit, my purpose as only the scribe of my dreams and prayers to and from and with Creation, the bird’s singing their songs for me to lie in like an eternal dreaming bed…

(That turns out to be false, right? Because the vision inside your upside-down belief is turned backwards, therefore it declares the opposite.)

Me suffering more, yet not suffering at all, me actually worth a spit or two to existence, to Love and God, GodLove triumphs in this, my vivid make believe. Join me in a search for the righteousness of Truth, the summary of humankind’s journey, with little prologue to wrap things up…

(Silence…)

The union is near, I take my vows most serious. Wasn’t always this way give or take a year and a half. I’ve traveled the pathway of Love, carrying nothing with me save for my worship and affection and awe and stewardship and loving the eartH as she gives to me-

(Free of charge!)

-anything my true and loving heart desires. I must learn how to change my belief back into just a belief instead of anything truly known. Come with me to the truth of belief, the love within it and the courage to respond in kind.


(Peace, Love and Goodness be just what the doctor ordered for humankind to come around, to finally speak his mind, his spirit and his Love, most vital to memory…)

Remembering who I am is most important to my human instinct.

(Love is the perfect fuel to be drilled from out of her needs of all that we’ve drained of her. Rise up as one, one human race, one Spirit, one Love, and prove to fear that we cannot begin to summon death when Love conquers all and peace is our purpose. It’s not a game.)

Yes, my dearest, you are right. It’s merely a word. A game that has so many levels that calling it “a game” is just a way of expressing the way the spirit had me go about it. I had more fear than even I was willing to admit, especially to myself.

(PTSD?)

I’ve never been to war, save for warring with the fearful spirit. My brain was flipped upside down and sideways for some time- the prayer sends me laughing with unbridled joy at my dance with Creation.

(All words, (save for one, Love, which needn’t ever be mixed in with all of the other “words” for unknowable things), are corruptible.)

Love is universal, what else can bring humankind our joy and our truth waiting within to our utter delight…?

(Here we go. Hang on tight kids, the road’s about to go bump in the pathway of Love. It’s a rumble that sounds in the drums! )

It’s the motion inside that swims my inner spirits to dance as one in and upon Heavenly eartH, within the HeartH of Creation. The Heart(H) is what persists while I’m breathing and sometimes when I’m not, the (H)eartH of Love or the Love of eartH, I’ll make it heavenly in order for the estimated time of arrival in Heaven, into the unknowable.

(It’s Love, there’s not much there to memorize, but if it is the most used word and act known to humankind, it clearly makes its presence known while you, Mark Richard Prime are in prayer upon the HeartH of Creation…)

It makes me the next one to be seen as an enemy to the status quo, but I must assure you that my purpose for the last year and a half was to prepare myself for something the size of Love that had set into motion long before I found her going along my path- she has so much more trust than even I gave her credit for…

(Love is on her way. She asks not that you flee her affections, but stay and lie upon her lovingly, comfort her ache from the worry of the children, comfort her tears falling at the hands of the spirits.)

My duty could not be more dangerous to the ruler(s) of my existence, in life upon the Mother eartH, and in my truth, my dear queen, my wife, my lovely Love. I believe that children are most precious above all living things, if not for the fact that they’re growing up to be warriors for humankind’s sudden death, she and our children, all the children, and family and friends and all of creation, known and unknown, knowable and unknowable.

The remedy for my spirit’s dance is found in the eartH, the source of the call I’m hearing. She awaits my answer in the form of my beyond any doubt belief and this is what I’m receiving from the sprit within the fullness of Love…

(Only misfortune will follow those that tell you your wrong and try to shape a private belief into profit and fame. A profitable fame kneels now at her hem and begs she lift the veil that she might reveal to you your Home…)

Silence…

(That last sentence sounds a bit risky, Mark…)

Curmudgeon, now is not the time.

(No. Now is the time, Nimrod!)

Is it?

(Of course it is you nincompoop! Now! Not tomorrow or the next day or the next or-)

Ad nauseam!


(Exactly!)

Spirit, am I truly that far behind in scribing such gladness, such love and joy rumbling inside the soul, my spirit’s Home, the avenue of Love?

(Made steep if fear is the taxi, but if Love takes the wheel, you’re bound to land on your own two feet within the Heavenly HeartH of Creation…)

I am ready I told myself so many times now.

(Speaking of ad nauseam?)

Curmudgeon, give it a rest!

(Fool!)

You know me. A fool I am not. If I’m a fool then all of the Love and intelligence I found in your spirit has been wasted? It is not just my belief if my belief has anything to say about it…

(Heel!)

Yes. I pray that I heal my affections, that Love might recognize them wholly. I’m begging you to cease your tightening of the bolts to thy fears squeezed so hard that they’re about to come unthreaded by the grinding of the interstate and the noise of war and murder and revenge and hatred, and human racism, and loveless actions.

It is my inaction that not only destroys human existence and any plans hatched along the way, but it mocks my breathless prayer. In this belief, my true duty is to never end.

(Find the pathway of Love and stay upon it! Love will summon your fate from your inactions and a most sacred belief, your words that have come to form who you were born to be.)

Angels, stewards of Heavenly eartH, the (H)eartH and Heart(H) of Creation, all, I beg of you to listen with your love and joy, let the rest sleep for a while. The world will still spin upon its axis if humankind suddenly disappeared, wouldn’t it?

(And would that be nothing but tragic or a part of your thinking’s evolution?)

Love is set to enter, my friends, and when she does I must make sure she looks her Sunday best! Monday through Saturday be in prayer the entire day, pray for Love’s survival in this our pathway toward annihilation of humankind through the self-destruction of all Life. Destruction of the only thing I can truly begin to know, who I am, what I am and where I am.

(It was not due to any salvation within the truth’s grasp and most certainly not within human’s contaminated deeds…)

Oh! Love brings me great joy! She rushes into my heart from the eartH and makes camp within my spirit, my soul. She begs of me to listen and to speak when the time presents itself in this circus of human belief.

As the truth goes undetected just beneath my feet, with it, the loving truth cascades around the eartH. It is the sky and land, the air and water, and the human misuse of her respect that elicits my belief to be found within a resounding Peace with full Love!

(Rejoice now, your truth, before she changes her mind…)

My brother, there is no need for any of this game, it is yours to love and embrace, it is mine to do the same, as the spirit of Love sees fit. It drains me of all the fearful use before I can tread ahead of death’s fervent drum. The fear’s enough to break me across the divide between Truth and the child, the child and Truth, the truth need rise of this humankind’s occasion…