CONFESSION ZERO

( New Heaven - New Earth ) This is Heaven. This is Heaven. This is Heaven. (It’s not that you were special, Mark, it’s because you were indifferent to Love. You were not necessarily chosen, more a lotto pick out of 7 billion individual beliefs.) If my head is clear and I am in silence and I find myself in the fears of my making, I pray I remember their lessons, then bury them in the ground of which I hold most sacred, above all else... Have I truly been summoned by Love to examine belief, or is Love merely demanding that I come up with a fearless and fully Loving belief? Either way, I chose full Love and it is set to come lovingly in this, my belief. I chose a loving belief over one that ends in the annihilation of all Life. Didn’t everyone? (Silence…) The loving spirit soars in me, she has my hand in a vow to Creation and we soar as I pray and I’m next to Love. I must remember why I am here in the first place. At least I imagine that’s the answer I seek… The Grand

I need only produce the script of a mad man for the jackals to howl their rage. Perhaps they’re not jackals, perhaps they’re wingless angels on earth? Maybe I’ve got it all backwards and the stewards of the eartH are waiting for me to release my cackling belief among my brethren instead of suffering for never having believed the one truth… The singular exactness surrounded by the human imagination is something I shudder to think of, it is sorrow personified… My love, it’s because I have not yet truly begun to waggle this speech to my family and upon the family of man that they too might sense that where they are is abundantly more important than where they imagine they’re going… Let me rein in the chaos and rejoice like the children of April in the rain… Come! Let me bring my laughter. Let me bring my staggering belief to a level like no other imagined! Heaven beneath my feet! If I ever imagined Heaven before, I certainly never imagined it as Home until my prayers began in e

( The Divine Wind by Matt Foley ) The wind and the shadow of the dog are my paintings now. The chirps from behind the wail of industry come toward me on staggering wing. Bent and broken is what industry has left the spirit… Love is paying a visit; pray you heed her cries… I believe that I am a spiritual healer, I dance with Love and send Fear away from the gates of paradise… The spirit of Fear, doomed forever to repeat its unlearned lessons, has now, in this belief, been vanquished. It is still up to Creation, up to Love to decide if this belief merits implementation, find the never-end and send it up to Love. There is no end to belief. I cannot end the journey with a period or some made for cinema finale, because I do not know, I only believe it beyond the shadow of any doubt, and, if it is the only one of its kind, collective spirit, then lifetime after lifetime after lifetime has now come to its use, an eternity in paradise for anyone and all, joy and laughter, again and

( Holy Spirit Painting ) The traffic digs its talons into my spirit. A surge of fear finds no path to enter my belief so I send it packing… The wind enters now as if on cue with my belief that now whispers- trust in Love, to my ready ears... I trust in Love, it’s my self that I do not fully know in order to believe, trust in these words. They are not mine alone. They are the muses of belief, they come from all loving spirit harnessed in the dance over lifetimes, none more so than my family due to their proximity to me... The spirits I’ve managed to engage with in my years on eartH are many and there’s much to be discovered in them about why I never danced with Love so merrily before… A song swept in for a brief moment, maybe it was the idea of a song and not a song itself, perhaps it needs me to conjure what natural sounds from the day I might arrange into an ode to the Heart(H) of Love… I write songs for Love. I do not write songs for fear. I pen them for, about, and wi