CONFESSION ZERO

And there we thought we had little to offer, she and I. Seems the echo of the earlier mirror analogy is ours to reflect upon, pun intended. Forbid We ever become so enamored with the self that We fail to honor our original vow, the stewardship of Home, Life, and most assuredly, the vow of our kinship. © 2015 Mark Richard Prime

Let us rise up as stewards to Home and one another, then our expectations will align with Creation's idea of salvation. (H)eartH is most precious to the One Exactness, for it is Life and we its personification. Remember. © 2014 Mark Richard Prime, Peace & Love

An engaged/active citizen is a "politician" by their very nature. Stewardship's not just for lawmakers, it's for peacemakers, too... © 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

Before they didn’t know a thing about me, now I’m trying to convince them that this is heaven. Help me help you and of our quest not tarry, she rises as we speak, the eartH, my sacred vow. The eartH is the garden of our long lost Eden. Ours must be a loving stewardship of the Heavenly grounds of Heaven… Get me a coffee, stat! I need supercharged for what’s set to come. It is the whole of Love to stave off our recklessness and pride, squatting on the eartH without a shred of grace! This is, in my opinion the will of God, Allah, Christ and Love that we come together at this moment of our existence, lifetimes after lifetimes, repeating, and cleanse the Mother eartH of our misuse… If one follows the pathway to Love they may take the exit ramp just before Love and instead challenge God. Which came first, Love or God? (Too easy. God.) No. (Love?) Both, simultaneously. Together as one since the inception of God, if that’s even possible… At once. At inception. We have no ful...

We are in this together my friends and family and all. This is a belief that has come off the track of fear and now tumbles headlong down the pathway of Love! Don't you see? I cannot stop this truth pouring out of me, the reason we are here is to be stewards, angels, Gods. Imagine that coming from the children of Creation? Just the handshake was enough to bring these latest words to you, the spirit of Love is what I wrestle fear away from and dismantle it and reconstruct it back into truth. It's a blessing and a curse is this ever-evolving instinct... Let us dance, shall we? © 2012 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark and Michelle Prime

It’s where you are that matters most, not what you’re surrounded by… Let’s not begin to imagine that even these words that pour out of me for any number of reasons is truth, because like I’ve been trying to point out, that is what’s happening to me, isn’t as pleasant as one might imagine, it’s painful paying for your sins before you can speak the word of God. I’d such a long way to travel. I am born to be Love, like we all are, but my head was flipped upside-down and I was drowning of fear, so it’s taken me way too long to get back to the surface of Love and scribe for her this ode… (But you hadn’t the consent of all!) I needn’t ask for the spirit of Love, it runs full stream through us all if we’ll but engage it, the spirit of Love is separate from our fear. It remains eternal, does Love. Life’s in mid-flight when it’s at its beginning, in the middle and here until Creation decides it’s time to dance. (What about the ending?) There isn’t one, unless you choose to ev...

( Backyard Brings Fracking Close to Home ) The scars of my suffering are mostly eternal! (Don’t you mean internal?) No. The scars of my indifference are spiritually scribed lines, tablets, the history of Love. Love is for all, Love cannot be divided or separated, and it cannot be vanquished. (So why the long face?) I’ve an elongated forehead… (Silence…) Harness my search for Love until I have brought forth stewardship. Until I have loved all and everything. (It’s rather simple. Love, Love, Love, Love, Love…) *~* This morning, the birdsong lifts my gaze to her sky, the wind brings my bowing toward her forgiveness, the traffic seems muted now, nearly a whisper- Careful it doesn’t gain the rank of sound… (Silence...) © 2012 by mark richard prime