When I survey the hollow earth beneath the feet of actors shuffling in and out of mortal coils, the not so gentle scent of some things future creeps into my nasal tubes like latent molecules in which some atoms have been bonded chemically (under duress [though true to form it’s never what it seems]). When I was small my Auntie Gert once said, on seeing that a stubborn wound of mine refused to heal: “It will get worse before it can get better”. Aware her wisely words were right, I’ve since applied that saying to the many other branches of my life.
And now that I have grown (2 far and far 2 fast) and look across the brightly-textured paradox we call the planet Earth, I note that Gertrude’s aphorism serves us well. For, far from hurtling straightly to a golden age of love and peace (as very many wishful thinking minds believe but which a full and honest study of the hidden facts would otherwise reveal), there first must be disturbances which culminate in cataclysms more distressing than our world has ever known before. I share this with you not to paralyse your heart with fear but so your sacred strings of life and love will not be pulled by some deceiving, thieving, unbelieving puppeteer.
The not-so-gentle scent of some things future is the odour of a world pretending to be new but yet, in truth, it represents a war in heavens older than the hills below involving beings of another kind which one day we will come to know. The good and golden angels help us through the vales and shadowlands of life and death. So we are not alone and to their subtle intimations we must not be blind or numb or ignorantly deaf. Neither must we foolishly be martyrs to our cause before we’ve had a chance to do our duty full; though someday just because the truth has set us free we’ll then be dubbed felonious outlaws or even killed, for darkness cannot tolerate the light, you see.
A force of evil sprays the good with tar and if we carefully look we’ll see they left their cellar door ajar through which with stealth we peer and then our darkside education can begin. But if we bluntly then refuse to face the ugly naked truths that basement holds within, our stark surprise will all the wailing worseful be when every lying darkness-posing-as-the-light façade erected throughout history is stripped away like leaves blown by a typhoon from a tall but vulnerable tree. Please do not be afraid or wither up inside; the time has come to take our places standing fast before this black and scarlet tide.
By this I do not mean that we can change it with some revolution dreams [for the dark must wholly run its course, as evil always must to reach its fullness goal 4 only then can all the power of God’s great light enact the righteous fight so justice then can be consoled] but rearrange the mindfulness of those who now deny this diabolic force. The time will not be very long before the period of trial will come. Exactly how long we don’t know and neither can we know the full duration of those dark and dreadful days. But come they will and those who know and understand must now prepare while light prevails, following the folded paper trails left for us by angels from beyond the veil signalling what deeds our future may involve, yet always in the knowledge that when every trace of darkness has been swept away we’ll hear the dulcet songful soulish passion of a risen-from-the-ashes phoenix-like internal universal nightingale: newful heaven, newsome earth, no more madness, sadness, pain of birth, disease, or violence, ignorance or curse.