It’s after eleven and the morning bird becomes the night, she and he call to one another, waiting upon the reassuring echo of Love…
The single pipe of the frog at once chases away the sounds and swings in its reverie to greet love and her attending angels…
Heaven’s not just a metaphor for eternity, it’s a place, a place that calls to us from just beneath our feet. It sings that I might garner and replenish her gift, that she may then give back tenfold. Heaven pleads my attention like a child whose strayed from comfort, a baby feeding off the mercies of the Mother.
She begs I listen to her midnight counsel, the bird and insect and air slipping by my ear.
A frog and a cricket walk into a bar…
And?
And nothing.
A frog and a cricket walk into a bar? That doesn’t even make sense.
Made sense to the frog and the cricket…
*~*
The night sounds again breathe these words as I sit here amazed that my neighbors are up to no good. Something’s missing? Summon it all, Mark Richard Prime, bring your tall laughter and sing that this is Heaven, let us remember Home is where the eartH is…
I’m a man who knows where he breathes. Love is upon me as we speak, lips pursed as if to say, ‘Hello. I love you.’ as I stare wide-eyed down the barrel of war…
Rise up oh child of God! Bring your self, your full love to recognize that you shouldn’t be bowed in shame upon the loam, but that you should be joyous and a free steward of this, God’s Eden…
Bang bam boom and a rat-a-tat tat, listen for eternity in that…
Shame on me for imagining I knew things beyond my need to know. I should have realized that I was plummeting toward the hell of my own design. Surely I now see? Surely my blindness has been cured and I’ve been given the green light toward realization?
(So be in motion as you travel…)
Love brings me my dreams. She brings me the silken mist of remembrance. She awaits my change, or she will have to change things herself, she’ll not hesitate to get her wayward children under control so that she might live on…
(You sound desperate.)
I am! What would you imagine me to be? Calm, cool and collected?
(Yes.)
Okay. If I don’t speak out in full, I’ve lost my freewill, if I do speak, I risk adding conclusions to the unknowable which might well become my truth…
(Rock meet hard place.)
Enter Love as if on cue…
© 2012 by mark richard prime
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