CONFESSION ZERO

“Every truth passes through three stages before it is recognized. In the first, it is ridiculed. In the second it is opposed. In the third, it is regarded as self evident.” __Arthur Schopenhauer Why did I arrive here? (The will of Creation.) Why did I journey to such depths, to such utter destruction of Love? (The human will.) Shame on me… Why does my rage still bludgeon the progress of my belief? Could it be that the abuse of Heaven is often too much for me to witness? Might it be that I’ve begun my dance with Love and she leads me before the truth like a shaman, one step at a time, and with her gaze upon my actions reflected against my worship? Am I too ashamed to admit I’ve not been the best man for the job? I did not understand my own limitations. I still deny them their breath. They may desire another, but this is the man they got, Mark Richard Prime, and all I’ve sought in my belief is the opposite of the man I had allowed myself to become. I sought Love with my ...

It’s after eleven and the morning bird becomes the night, she and he call to one another, waiting upon the reassuring echo of Love… The single pipe of the frog at once chases away the sounds and swings in its reverie to greet love and her attending angels… Heaven’s not just a metaphor for eternity, it’s a place, a place that calls to us from just beneath our feet. It sings that I might garner and replenish her gift, that she may then give back tenfold. Heaven pleads my attention like a child whose strayed from comfort, a baby feeding off the mercies of the Mother. She begs I listen to her midnight counsel, the bird and insect and air slipping by my ear. A frog and a cricket walk into a bar… And? And nothing. A frog and a cricket walk into a bar? That doesn’t even make sense. Made sense to the frog and the cricket… *~* The night sounds again breathe these words as I sit here amazed that my neighbors are up to no good. Something’s missing? Summon it all, Mark Richard...