“It is also a warning. It is a warning that, if nobody reads the writing on the wall, man will be reduced to the state of the beast, whom he is shaming by his manners.”
Mahatma Gandhi
“When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall.
Think of it–always.”
― Mahatma Gandhi
(remnants of what once adorned a wall of Cong Abbey, County Mayo, Ireland / Julie Cook / 2015)
What’s it going to take…
What sort of revelation do you need?
What type of sign?
What is it that you need in order to understand, to see, to realize, to acknowledge…
…that which speaks of truth, reality and actuality…?
How many more will perish?
How long will you remain silent?
How often will you deny that which is obvious?
Pretend,
Ignore,
Deny…
They each dance lightly along the wind
We sift, sort and pull out the lies, the half truths and the diversions.
All the while as those in authority continue shifting, twisting and tweaking our reality.
We are considered to be either mindless, clueless or too preoccupied,
as we roll in the muck and mire of our own divisiveness…
While Darkness bides his time
Meanwhile there are those who prowl, troll and seek… vowing harm, mayhem and delightfully even death.
They lurk about in the shadows smiling through the night.
Hearts are broken and lives are disrupted while we look the other way.
We wring our hands in our sorrow… never realizing our need for direction.
While the demonic and sinister contently wait focused and determined.
Amazingly no one seems to take notice that the time draws ever near… when life and death will catastrophically collide leaving mankind stuck helplessly in the middle…
Yet the masses continue wearing their rose colored glasses… blinded by the lies of want and greed.
The seriousness that waits to be addressed is overshadowed by desire, hip and chic.
The worlds we’ve spent a lifetime perfecting are now rapidly passing away
while the writing, which yearns for our reading is plainly etched upon the wall…
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