The Real Journey

The real journey will be the one to the self. Courageous are those that dare venture into the darkness to rescue a fallen angel...


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We may not need them to control our guns, but we certainly need them to control theirs.

Keep our senses about us, keep our rights about us, and keep our Love at the forefront of both...


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Warriors of this world, you need no gun or bomb as weapon, you need the fullness of Love upon your tongue, sing it, write it, speak it, paint it, stage it, be it...

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A spiritual warfare that not one gun will help us with our struggle toward peace...

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I certainly hope that through my constant posts that I am not making you tired of my speech... It is my intention to set off an alarm within you, deep inside, beneath the fear and the want, trying to rise up on belief's behalf and grasp our hands and pull us up into Heaven...

I think that I'm proving that I'm human, now let's dance and change us both into fine feathered spirits and next time, we'll remember one another with a smile's laughter...

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What should have always remained my path now finds me walking directly on it, across the field, across the land that's calling to you and to me...

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Those that can must and those that choose to strip the rights of we, the human citizenry, take the rights of all of us away and we see that we're involved in a spiritual civil war...

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My dreams are most flavorful now, before it was frightful lesson upon frightful lesson. Now they swim in Love's center, they dance their way across the floor of Heaven. O. The mind is indeed a terrible thing to waste, the heart speaks through it...

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O! The weather! Beautiful in its winter air, in its spiritual plea to be springtime instead...

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If this isn't Heaven in which we roost, what, pray tell, is it? If it's not Heaven, we've fashioned the eartH without "God", at least none that we've ever imagined, none that have been put name to as if they existed before our eyes that would pass on the fullness of Love's Truth...

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I mean what could it hurt if I'm given the voice I imagined? What could it possibly hurt if I am summoned to speak of Love and Forgiveness and bring both of them with me, all of them with me, an entourage of Love and Peace and Laughter and Living beyond what another has set out for us...

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If you would kindly open your heart to me I'll dance all your fears away. Your Love will be ready when it's time to be who you were born to be...

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We won't be "who" we are until we know "who" we are. Same goes for where and what...

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It's not just your spirit that I dance with, it is the broken pieces of spirits that you tote of another's that make us walk so slow.

You can sense the self. I found mine slung around a whipping post, mine dangled by the freshly chopped wood for winter's bone.

Courageous are those that dare venture into the darkness to rescue a fallen angel...

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O! My fellow spirits! Do not worry that I am not listening to your words, I might be a bit distracted by my dance with your spirit, I might imagine that i can't speak yet or maybe even ever, but ever means nothing since there is no such thing as time. Let it go and be who you were born to be and let us know one another and laugh together like family, where do you think I amassed enough forgiveness to write these words like a machine?

(What? You need an editor.)

No. I need a stage...

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime