love loving you loving love
when it all the ecstasy and tragedy becomes one endless string of pearls and you are loved loving love loved you become the melting eye seeing it all a symphony of all love that ever was growing oceans and all the water in the entire cosmos is love loving love we’re all canaries in the coal mine called to sing and some do some don’t some won’t and some just lay there dead passing their songs along to others yet to be becoming love of themselves pearls in the continuity of love and in love names become meaningless fear gone forever more no more terrorist of fear since love is loved and accepted in whatever way it comes is love.
I buried her in Maysville Kentucky in a white refrigerator with gilt plastic handles mandated by the airline carrying her to me to put in her final resting place in Maysville Kentucky and Tom was bored because I couldn’t stop reciting from the Prayer Book Celebration of Internment and because I loved him and her and my sister I stopped and came to me last night and said; “Its okay son; “I loved you all along.” No exclamation mark no need shout or runabout singing or saying anything but the tears began then and quivered in my reserve of arrows loving their target and all the children beside her sang love is love loved the author of all love is love in chorus silently loving me loving them and the author of us.
Was I born to say this? I’ll not ever know until before the judge of all love the lover of us.
It was asked of me once what does it mean if you see Buddha walking down the path towards you? It means you don’t ever kill anything or anyone because what you Kill slays u & u don’t have to slay me because I slay myself for u and 4 love B well B loved Beloved always loved exactly where and how and here you are.
There is no end to of love it holds us the courses like the stars above us singing in chorus winking and blinking the tears away all the time until time ends never I could stop but won’t because in the end which is never you feel the love or don’t I buried her beside her father dead at four she never knew who says essentially I did did not shoot myself on purpose . . . but that’s my story not yours Yours must be sung to you as mine is to me making it apparent apprehended and convicted that U2 are loved, beloved, lovely and adored 2 well hell doesn’t exist and the devil is in you as well as love and in choosing you see the reason U must die to yourself and be reborn again coming back loving differently U see for M it would be insane for me to preach love to you since I cry every time I read reading aloud 1 Corinthians 13 and sometimes even get hysterical and roll in the mud beside my dead son never to be seen again and the deal is pastoral and liturgical the first has no script and the latter has one that goes on and around 24/7/365 a tsunami of love drowning everything before it.
read the words tattooed upon and within your heart what you otherwise being young and about to take over the controls of life wear not upon your sleeve but the flesh of your arms
120929 04:08 celebrate
©2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved
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