CONFESSION ZERO

Look beneath your feet. Look beneath your feet, she waits. Look beneath your feet, before it’s too late! Look beneath your feet, see her leaning? Gaze on her beauty! Smile at her smiling green and blue and rainbow of hues never imagined in our monstrous belief. She needs me. She desires me, if I’ll but believe in Love. When the wars began, the people lost their minds, zombies clanking along a pathway of thorns; screaming, gnashing teeth, hair and suffering; not eternal, it just seemed forever… Hush now, Love. I’m here. I will never forsake you. Be Love and believe in me. If I am called I may have to run more than I walk, cry more than I talk. ...Sweet cello beneath my belief, what sorrow have you not seen, you, with your strings humming away at my mind, at my consciousness? I must wake up! I’ve not much time! Move my feet, raise my voice! I will. I am. © 2011 by mark prime

Bow to Love before wrath wears your shoes. Her rain cleanses the sacred ground. Her wind anoints lost souls. Her green cures our dis-ease with who we are? Might we be her thunder and quake? Is there a reason you asked an already answered question? © 2011 by mark prime

The heart breaks when it’s not enough. She moves to our music, swims to our song, sweats for our return, she is all that is Creation. I’m in love and love and Love and Love won’t keep man’s grenades from destroying all he’s lived for. The heart breaks when it’s not enough. Oh! It lights our way! See her majesty rise in the day and not set without a sun, she raises her anguished face to the heaven we embraced, to me, to you, to spirit, to her, to Love. The heart breaks when it’s not enough, and breaks again when belief becomes fear instead of peace. Breaks again from human destruction, counting down from four to one, two jumps in and rides the sun… © 2011 by mark prime

Sound of muffled whimpers came from the rubble… Sight of the astonished wept at what they saw in the diminishing air… Touch of another’s hand can heal the bile. Begin with the spirit, for when the spirit laughs with love, the spirit comes alive! Touch the hand of another brother or sister with only love, touch another’s spirit, touch another’s soul and you’ll find yourself in heaven with all those you’ve touched before. Not strangers, friends. We want Love and we’ll never have it the way we treat her. Why would she relinquish the spirit that is hers to hold? She only wants us to stop the noise… Shut the door on humankind’s foul inventions as wrecking ball before they sink their fangs in any deeper! Shut the door on unfortunate humankind! There’s little time to waste- Love, Love, Love, rejoice and never forget who you are again… © 2011 by mark prime

This is not Armageddon. This is Heaven returning to our consciousness… Creation, Love. She, with her gravity, is like a mother’s arms around a wayward child, and, if she must, she’ll sling her wrath when they become murderers. Her wake-up call, long overdue, fell upon them, silence. Fell upon them, silence. Fell upon them… She pleads we reconsider. She prays we unlock the gateway from ourselves back to Love. Sight is to behold like behold is to see. © 2011 by mark prime

Where we are is all we can know, all we should know and all we need know. Who we are comes along with what we are to where we are. We must remember, recall our kinship before the act concludes. Our dreams are the gauge to our knowing and our waking dreams deliver their sweet reverie to this reception with joy. And to our amazement truth has always been waiting beneath our feet for us to sense her Love, for us to awaken to our great fortune. Awake! It is time to come together as one and occupy the eartH, Home and Heaven, with heart-signs that read Love, hands that hold her dear like we hold our precious children, arms that reach out like machines of affection and legs in urgent motion toward her care. Where did we imagine we were? Where do we imagine we are? Who did we imagine ourselves to be? Who do we imagine ourselves to be? What did we imagine we were here for, thievery, rape and war? What do we imagine we are here for? Oh! The gravest fault lies in our lack of loving ima...

What Was That You Said? How can I say no to her? She’s been waiting so long for someone to speak, she’s been chained and bound, she’ been red and found, but not by man, she is his birthplace, he cannot escape! She’s Mother, Grandmother, Great Grandmother, Love. We are not what we were only a moment ago. We’re aloft, afloat toward our fear and not our memory. From our fear and not our memory come our sins. Fear cannot be memorized or drained through the fibers of man’s flesh. Beneath the sadness she’s been writhing. She’s been turning corners hoping the light stays green. Oh, my Love. I am here. Don’t cry. Your children are dying. Music skipped from the quake, what was that you said? Your children are dying. I thought that’s what you said. Yet you’d rather not cry? You’d rather make light and have been for nothing? There are no winners when everyone’s running for their lives. The game’s rigged. Heaven, where we stand, our feet, without direction, wander with the win...