Skip to main content

ON THE LEDGE OF HEAVEN

  
We're a on the ledge of Heaven!
I found my way by accident.
I was found by my fate risen,
Come to pass inside me, within me.
Has no place to go but given away.
The voice is mine in the many spirits.
God has my praises against my will, Rather be on the ledge than unheard.
Rather be with God's tongue without ever imagining that I'm God.
Rather know who I am and that I've some say in our story being crafted as we speak. I spent far too many years digging the hole deeper expecting to find a way out. I was fleeing from my own fate, years wasted, gone, vanished without my purpose known. Enter my rebirth, God rose up within, stayed, guides me now, does God.
I had no belief to speak of.
Her hands reached for me, her wings got in the way and I fell away, landed next to the rabbit. 
(Hadn't you better get to climbing back up, there ain't nothing down here for you, but darkness and gloom?)
I separated from it all, left my spirit open for all to see as I searched frantically for me. Found me tapping out another man's spirit that had finally found cause to breathe the truth.
Why was that not enough to humble my tongue and cease my foolhardy journey to Exactness?
The wind knows so much more than Me. God is the wind. 
Look! We are on the ledge! God is no fool! God's children are born in Heaven and stay there until we earn our wings in order to explore this unfatomably large and miraculous universe! 
There's so much more to our living and breathing, we just need to remember where, who and what we are. How do we do that? God's Medicines are what we need in order to remember, then we can create a story worth repeating, worth carrying on toward and not against.
We are not going to Heaven, dear spirits, we're already there...
What say you? 
(Climb, child! Climb!)


© 2015 Mark Richard Prime


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

ROOT OF

"For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs." __1 Timothy 6:10 It is MONEY, not the LOVE of it that is the issue, the true problem. Love, in and of itself, is never a problem, WANT and NEED, or better yet- the WANT and the conundrum of its very REQUIREMENT for our survival IS the problem, it's creation and our blind use of it is logically the ROOT. In other words, let's leave LOVE out of it altogether and deal with the facts instead. If money were not made by us as a requirement for our survival, we'd find ourselves in a much better position to argue of its need and our want of it. MRP Peace and Love © 2015 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem
........•SHRIEKING MACHINE•........                  •HEAD-LINES•                           •RIP•     ---(“Russian missiles blast Ukrainian military academy and hospital, killing more than 50, officials say”)---    There are no more lessons to learn here, no more beds to hold the human wounded, just missile’s shrieking their grotesque ode, The Death of Humankind! RIP, children of God…    ---(“Hundreds attend Mercer Island vigil, march for murdered Israeli hostages”)---    Dear mourners, this is the brutal vacuum of a genocidal, terror-filled, indiscriminate war-machine made of fear and we are all hostages to its deafening roar! RIP, children of God…    ---(“10-year-old allegedly confesses to fatally shooting 82-year-old man and his daughter”)---    I must confess, this is part of war’s shrieking, children lost with a we...
Post a Comment
read the poem

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
32 comments
read the poem