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Dote Upon


If I was indeed born to scribe the words of Love for the world to dote upon, why do I feel as if I am an intruder?

(You're more like an insider, scribe.)

Yes. On the inside.

(Where it belongs.)

Yet who says it needs to remain unspoken, why can’t it be spoken into existence like the makeshift hell we've created within our beliefs storm?

(It’s yours, scribe, yours alone.)

The belief or the storm?

(What’s the difference?)

Belief is the scribe of my reality, the canvas upon which I continue to paint, making reality the storm.

© 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

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