Repeating It, Most Precious

And then we engage in truth.

Sounds like a forbidden forest, so why was it ever forbidden?

The belief in another person's spirit, all persons. Be in tune with your fate and your Forgiveness. The more full Love and Laughter that carves our name in our bodies absence, the more our spirit remains loving. You were instructed of this at your birth- Careful what you imagine you are doing when you are young and irrational of fate of my Love and Forgiveness.

I'm but seconds away from my remembering, after tracing so many steps backward toward the light of Love's illumination. I must strive to bring forgiveness along to guide me. The (H)eartH's just my beginning! Rejoice in that idea, spiritual fact- forgiveness was in her absence. I imagined she should certainly come along with me in this quest to salvage my one chance at belief, to rise to something greater than my self; Truth, Life, Love and Laughter.

I keep repeating it, the thing that is most precious in my belief, the Mother, the (H)eartH. Why this play is my own creation, I mean if I was being challenged for anything you can bet your bottom dollar that is the way it's supposed to be, you want to meet God, introduce yourself kindly, then begin your walk in Love.

My brother, Philip, has some very beautiful children, they write us all letters that have that curious tone of knowing God personally and that is always beautiful to witness, and they also float with sorrow for their soon to be risen King! This is Harry Potter, meets Lord of the Rings, a musical number written, directed and produced and acted by the crown prince and princess of Creation's desire, afterall I did die to get to where I am today. Like the back of my hand I know that I was dead that night so many months ago.

(This might be a good time to write something and then as I am still in prayer expound on it, which means that I will have to read them in full and might instead add to what is missing in my dance with Love, my full and clear-eyed and most loving reflection of the spirit I claim to have within my own faith's brow...

(Sounds like you thought.)

Thought? Not in the least, how it works when the spirits got a hold on you. Who I am is beside the damned point. The words streaming out of me are not my own though my fingers do quiver to their music. What I'm saying isn't nearly the potential that's beneath all of the mystical truth's tune, it is within them, not so much without unless you ask them to dance that they might show you how...

(Because it remained sacred.)

© 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime