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For all intents and purpose this is unreal


Mark: It’s a figment of my imagination, all of this humankind business, all of it, each and every last one of man, woman and child. 

Mother: And every spirit that is with eternity, crying out to you, jumping up and down trying to rumble a warning for your spirit and flesh. Your love and you. Your animal, lord and life, lord and death. So why are you encased with spirit which is not yours to carry away or to ruthlessly pawn, sell or trade, or imagine that you could begin to own?

Mark: But what of the spirit that is self?

Mother: You mean the spirit you were born from, the eartH?

Mark: Earth?

Mother: Everyone’s eartH.

Mark: Mother’s are the reason we’re here. Yes.

Mother: Mother and Father, but I’m speaking of everything and everyone’s Mother, The (H)eartH.

Mark: You mean Earth?

Mother: Why not (H)eartH?

Mark: You’re mad!

Mother: And you’re too filled with everyone else’s fear. Filled with everyone else’s nightmares, everyone’s broken heart, another’s pain, another’s suffering, another’s hardship, another’s weakened love, another’s hate, another’s crime, another’s thought, another’s death, another’s war, another’s toxin, another’s rule. Bow to what’s beneath you! To the mountain peak, bow! To the forest, bow! To the river, bow! To the stream, bow! To the ocean, bow! To the desert, bow! To the HeartH, bow. Love will be pleased…

Mark: How could I, in this looming weather, have ever imagined this story unfolding?

Mother: Eyes. Instinct. Love. Life. Laughter. Spirit. Child. Flower. Tree. Soil. Breath.

Mark: Prayers to earth are ancient and forgotten.

Mother: The Heart(H) has remedies for that, too. Love rises with the smiling spirit, in her crops, in her affection, in her air, in her skies, in her rocks, in her rivers, in her streams, her lakes, oceans and seas. Love rises beneath my feet and has been waiting to move through my spirit! For you to recognize where you were so that your spirit would grasp a hold of Love and goodness, and ride it all the way to the beautiful end.

Mark: Oh, Mother! I'm so sorry!

Mother: Wail your tall regret to another!

(A long and sorrowful silence...)

Mother: Oh, child. My heart is broken, too. Shhh… Shhh… Everything is going to work out, my love. Shhh... Everything's going to be okay…


© 2011 by mark prime

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