Skip to main content

Weep, Shriek and Howl!




The light of the sun tells me that I'm small. The greenness of the earth tells me that I'm her steward. The influence of the spirit informs me that there’s little time left to correct my grave mistakes.

Listen to my soul, put ear to it and remember that my kind isn’t exceptional to life, life is exceptional to my kind. Listen to my heart, paint Love’s green reflection upon its bright pulse and recognize my true nature, a part of the grand procession that is evolving toward Love, toward the full worship of creation. Kindly take her hand and she will lead me to the love of all. Smile upon her gifts, laugh upon her ground, but first weep of the abuse I’ve poured into her waters, loosed within her air, ignited upon her soil and grafted in her children’s minds.

Weep! 


Rain my tears down upon the grass that she might know my sorrow!

Wail! 


Spill my grief upon the sacred ground that she might know my regret!

Howl! 


Shriek my tall shame into the wind that she might know I’ve changed!

The light of the sun tells me that I'm small. The greenness of the earth tells me that I'm her steward. The influence of the spirit informs me that there’s little time left to correct my grave mistakes.



© 2011 by mark prime


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

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

SKYFALL

Skyfall... We continue to play along with an unnatural game that has serious consequences, soon we'll find ourselves enslaved without recourse to the system. (Is that true of local charades?) Yes. (Why can't we free ourselves from the system?) The madness of money. (It's not money, it's people, right?) It's both, money and us in tandem, thus assuring money's might and our adherance to its loudness. (Madness...) Indeed. © 2017 Mark Richard Prime

THE ROCK HOLDS

The rock holds the soil in and from the soil springs the tree, the green of LIFE rolling from the blue, rising to the occasion of itself. . “Be!”, the (H)eartH declares, “Be what you are!” . (We thought we were!) . (We think we are!) . “You are, but not freely, therefore, only a thought, and a thought without much thinking, as if you were scared into it.”, the (H)eartH added. . [a quietude begins, the truth being heard and heeded, grooving to the flow] ~ © 2017 Mark Richard Prime