CONFESSION ZERO

Treat all daughters as if they are angels, not for you to find advantage in, but for you to witness, perhaps guide, if needed. Other than that, cherish them as equals, as guides to be measured by... © 2014 Mark Richard Prime

Here's to the strength of mother, of daughter, of faith in family, of reasonable tears, of Love and of Peace. Bless the Mother's experience of and with child, bless the child, bless the union, there's less suffering in it... © 2014 Mark Richard Prime

O the canopy of affection behind our paintings, the masterpiece of birth, the beauty of child, we must remember them, can't forget. They are the truth of our journey, the lace in our garments rendered as small stewards for our joy. The shortness of our breath comes slowly, long after we've taken our first. we are the breathing child of Creation's slant, of God's grant of an exactness of birth. The truth is we love, mean to be kind, lose our way and then come back. This lovely child was a gift, a smiling, writhing boy, one of us, one of thee, one of all, the children are maps to our first breath. The end of one signals a new beginning, not a death, but a fresh birth, a return of our flesh-born wealth, truth, come manifest, take us back to Peace. Remember this child, remember them all now, for without them, we feel alone, would be, too, crestfallen in our quake, sorrowful, needing to laugh. Remember them! They are We and Thee, a painting of...

We’re a rising sun We’re a burgeoning paradise We’re a vessel of One We’re a thrumming drum We’re with God and Goddess We’re with wind and water We’re the Mother and Father We’re the sons and daughters The vessels of choice The conscious voice The righteous believers The (H)eartH’s receivers We are the rising congregation A sacred configuration We are the human race A caring face We are the angels of grace A system in place Sisters and Brethren Breathe Love Exhale Peace Arrive in Heaven Be © 2014 Mark Richard Prime © 2014 Mark Richard Prime

Good night my kind spirits all. The fine-feathered and the more down to (H)eartH, The love and the forgiveness, the courageous and the timid, the all out and the limited! Smile this ode to the Mother, to the sister and the brother, the uncle and the father, the son and the daughter, great and grand, boom bam boom bong the song... Peace © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Don't breathe in the one thing within the truth that holds down Peace. Do not consider the path most consumed, take the one that Loves, that Forgives our use of her, our Laughter upon her bosom. Live, Love and Laugh with me my fine-feathered spirits, this is for you my kindred spirit, my wife, my brother, my mother, my in-laws, my daughters, my nephews, nieces, aunts and uncles... ~ I pray for the day that "the war machine" (and the warriors who serve it) is no longer the strength of any nation, but that the strength of the world is seen in its Peace (and the peacemakers that serve it)... Peace and Love © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Neither are God's Sons special, not without their equal counterparts, God's Daughters... © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

We are as rooted as the tree. Of that we certainly agreed. She spoke confidently, I heard, like the water finds its groove, I sensed her belief. Like the root senses water, the river its current, the wolf its night, the mother her daughter. We are rooted as the tree. Home’s where we begin, Love’s where we breathe, Peace, our sacred endeavor, Forgiveness, born in us at birth, Laughter’s the body’s elixir. Rejoice, our Christ is near, God’s rooted within You and Me, in We, not unlike the tree… © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

( You are Not Alone - Major Love Prayer.org ) (I've been saying this a long time. A whisper in the night, a nudge within the day, but it's all been coming out backwards, or has it?) Sounds like a David Lynch script. (David Lynch is a genius, Nimrod!) Then it is we that are not... What’s come of this, our day? Feels like a pale remembrance as if we've not slept since, or our eyes never fully opened, living near death, over and over, never realizing what we've done. The dead walk by our closed doors just as they did before. Maybe years from now someone will open them and see there’s no one there, open the cupboards and gaze at the ghost’s of a bare boned affection that move about in the living dust, in the echoes of our dancing within the last of our days, even if there’s nothing worth remembering or somehow it all got misplaced, perhaps tucked away for a rainy day, a keepsake for tomorrow that never came… or never was. Walk with heads held high, honor a...

( The Federation of Light  - Artwork ) Okay. She’s my Love. My Love is my Love. She is what I must hold most precious, woman, mother, child, womankind, childkind, eartHkind, mankind, humankind, kindkind, motherkind, lovingkind, laughingkind, all kind. I must produce Love before I begin to produce life, otherwise what’s the point? My Love had come out all backwards, like a book meant to read that way, from end to beginning. I should be on the eartH without shame, save for the shame of how I've treated heart and home. What I do in this world is mine to choose. I've chosen to hold the earth as my heavenly home, in reverence to her Love... Be humble, Mark Richard Prime. Bow to Love’s eartH, there is no shame in it.  I believe that there is only Love, Love to be found when she isn’t too busy cleaning up my foul use of her loving ground. I am guilty as charged for treating my Love and the eartH as if they were exp...