The Coming Times ^TM

Spirit

Close your eyes for me

Close your eyes and listen to the silence

And you are seeing

Scribe

My Mother and I at the park bench

She is holding the globe on her necklace away from her

As if to show it to me

Spirit

Look at the globe

Peer into it

Scribe

Good morning Mother

Mary

Good morning sweet one

My darling peer into my globe

And write down what you see

Scribe

And I peer in and of course immediately see the blue of the sky

And the white of the clouds

And the white of the clouds are a swirling mass

And I look but I cannot get past, I cannot see through the white

And I enlist my Spiritual Eye for this effort

And he readily agrees

And I vibrate at my Eye center and at my Mother’s center

And now I am me as myself on the Earth

And I see people moving about me in all directions

And I stand there still, a little girl, with all these adults moving so fast

Past by me, in all directions

And I miniaturize myself and levitate 3’ off the ground and find a safe spot

From which I can watch all the activity

And I am at a roundabout it would seem

I seem to be in a major European city

Perhaps Rome I do not know

And there is a wave of people surging up from the south

And an equally large wave of people surging in from the east

And there are traffic officers on the roundabout

But are overwhelmed by the sheer force of the numbers

And can do nothing to establish order

And yes I see the Pope come out onto his balcony in his white vestments

And immediately a shout arises from ALL of the people

No matter where they are from

El Papa!  El Papa!  El Papa!

And he greets them in their own tongues

He welcomes them

He hopes they find safe harbor and refuge

While their homes are inhospitable

Until their homes are restored

He greets them

He welcomes them

He blesses them

In each of their languages he does so

And there are so many languages to do so in!

And the people cry out in gratitude; they cry in gratitude

El Papa!  El Papa!  El Papa!

And they have renewed hope

Yes they are welcome

Yes they are here recognized as humans

Yes they are even spoken to in their own language

The relief they feel is overwhelming

And many break down in tears

In convulsive sobs and tears for truly they were tired

Truly they were feeling without hope

And now it is as though a ray of sunshine has beamed down upon them

And the people are given renewed hope

And the Pope reenters his office

And now there is more order in the boulevard

The people are now walking about at a calmer pace

Following the rules of the road

They have hope now

They have hope now

They have hope now

Mary

And then what happens

Scribe

And I see the Italians welcoming the people

Sharing their food with them

Yes, even accepting them into their homes

And the people are so grateful

The tears stream down their faces as they tell their story to their hosts

Their almost unbelievable story

The story of Nature seeming to have turned its fury

On the humans upon her land

Either withholding water from them altogether

Or dumping it on them with a fury, with a vengeance

Either way, she has chased them off

And yes, she has won, for there was nothing they could do

Nothing!

And the Italians sit listening fascinated

And some of them wonder what these people have done

To earn such fury from Nature

Is it the endless wars that they have been waging on their continents

Is it the corruption of their governments

Is it the extreme wealth of the few and the dire poverty of the most

Or is it simply Nature being Nature

And they sit and listen to the stories in utter fascination

They contemplate the stories

They marvel at them

What does it mean

For Mother Nature to suddenly turn against the humans on a continent

And chase them all away

Either they fled or they died

The choice was as stark as that

And the thought occurs to them

That if Mother Nature could do so to these two continents

The great land mass of Africa

And the whole of southern Asia

Then could it be possible that Nature would do the same to their home

And they look around their home with new and appreciative eyes

Yes how they love Rome

How they love their city, their countryside, their streets and boulevards

Yes, how much they love their home

Why they had taken it for granted

It was a given

Of course they had a home!

Everyone had a home!

And they had always had a special fondness

For their home above all others

For after all it was an expression of themselves

But now they find themselves looking around them with new eyes

With appreciative eyes

And yes with protective eyes

We must be careful that the same thing does not happen to us

And the Italians gather together and discuss and discuss and discuss

They sit in their beloved cafes and restaurants

And among them they share the stories the refugees have told them

And among them they share what they are interpreting these stories to mean

And their interpretations are not cast in stone

Yes, they are willing to listen to their neighbor

Each is willing to listen to the other

For truly such had never happened before

Not in their history

Not in the history of the past 3,000 years at least!

What do such things mean?

And more importantly, how do we respond

What must we do to assure that it does not happen here

And yes a general consensus forms

The 2^nd step and the 3^rd step are unclear

But the 1^st step is clear, it is obvious, it leaves no room for discussion

And so the Italians pray

They flood their churches and their cathedrals and they pray

They kneel in their own homes and they pray