CONFESSION ZERO

I believe the truth exists in a frame, or so this mortal mind instructs me. The truth is eternal, for what else could it be, limited or limitless, narrow or endlessly wide? (Exactness evermore.) Indeed the mystery is beyond my flesh and blood, likely in a spiritual reality that takes the breath away and replaces it with the loving spirit until the curtain drops on this immortal story. (It never ends?) I doubt it, I don’t actually know, as I’ve mentioned a time or two. Maybe it goes on forever for some and eversleep falls over the rest. No suffering, none in the after-death, the soil that gives back freely asking nothing in return. The meek shall inherit the living soil and return as a rose or an oak or a river or a plant, the possibilities are infinite, one life after another, without thought, without suffering, without pain, without memory, save for the spirits of the eartH of God and Love and Life everlasting… (Might there be more?) More? How could there be more than e

There are three things. No. There is but one. Truth. (Why not three?) There can be but one exactness to explain all of this. (But what did you mean by three?) It was a mistake. (Then why did you leave it in?) It was done. I thought it best to seek it further after some time had passed. (You are an enigma, my child.) No. You’re the enigma. (Me?) Absolutely. Anyone will tell you that your mystery far surpasses anything this mere mortal has ever had to offer. (Good point.) I just might be dreadfully wrong. I mean who am I to say that I’m not insane? (You’re the only one. Words jump from your fingers as if they’re escaping your uncertainty. It’s not rocket science, Mark.) I know. It’s eartH science. (Good of you to have remembered.) She is my Love. I will not forsake her. My original vow in the spirit and the first promise I remembered to keep in the flesh are the two I hold above all else, the eartH of Love and my Love on the eartH. (Well said!) I’d th

( Sensible Bakwas - Entwined Love ) Is there such a thing as fearless Love anymore or has it fallen to fearful war? Creation is fearlessly waiting on the consciousness, on an awareness that the (H)eartH is sacred. I mustn’t keep her waiting one moment longer. She begs that I remove all fear and end my noise that I might recognize Home… Let me worship within Love’s Heart(H), Heavenly Home. Let me praise her flesh that she might give birth to the seed of life, take in her untainted air that she might breathe in mine evermore. I pray my belief is chosen from out of the many, for my belief is formed from the many… Is there really need for a battle of beliefs? Is there need for me to imagine Heaven if I’m unable to recognize Home…? The one truth, (insert name here), is unknowable. It is reckless thinking, careless belief that has led to imagining an end to Life in order that the Spirit might live forever. It is eternal already, my beliefs are secondary to Love… (Life is Go

( Epilogue ) The owl began his low note and it captured my attention with its claim to me, beseeching that I heed the eartH’s cry that she might then unveil her full and heavenly Love. Oh! Let me seek her voice always so as to breathe in me evermore! Cry, O river! Cry that we and thee might breathe together without the ode of suffocation, but that we might, instead, liberate this eternal Life! O cry, soil, rock and tree! Cry for Love’s majesty! Cry, over the eartH, God’s Creation! Cry! Each and every nation, cry out loud! Bring the roof of your worship down to join the floor! No more this madness let slip into the living’s midnight! Let her go! Take your paws off of her throat and kindly lift her wings that she might float! (And a good morning to you, too, scribe!) Thank you loving spirit… (There go the dogs and their shrill laughter, their obedient lessons for you to learn, Mark Richard Prime.) Yes. My daily devotion with its cacophony of loving sounds, the tong