Scribe
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I am descending down through the sky
And I find myself again miniaturized
Again in that same spot in Rome by the traffic circle by the fountain
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Queen of Heaven
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Now look up at the sky
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Scribe
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I look up at the sky and I see that it is dark
It is not dark blue, but dark white
It is overcast; there are many clouds; so much so that it is not full
daylight
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Good continue
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Scribe
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And the clouds swirl and move
They take on huge mass
They take on form
And they come down closer to the Earth
They are not up as high in the sky as I am used to seeing clouds
They are lower
There is a menacing presence to them
There is a sense that they are waiting
Just waiting for the nod
They are all ready; they are all in place; all they need is the nod
from above
And they can GO!
And the clouds swirl about, almost chomping at the bit, as it were
Yes they are READY!
Yes they are ready
But they wait
They wait
They will not start until told to
And they have not been told to
And the people are praying
These Italians, they pray and they pray and they continue to pray
And they receive the refugees and they receive the refugees
And they continue to receive the refugees
And then they return to praying and praying and praying some more
And then finally the clouds receive the word
But it is not the word they were expecting
No, they are not to open the floodgates on the land below them
The word they receive is to move
And the clouds are obedient; they obey the word of God
And together as one; they take off and I see them moving towards
the East
There is a great movement; a mass movement
They all move eastwards
And now Rome is as bright as day
The blue sky can be seen; the sun can be seen
And the Italians get on their knees and with their Rosary
Give thanks and praise to God
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Queen of Heaven
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Follow the clouds, dear one
Follow the clouds
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Scribe
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And now the clouds have moved eastwards
And now they settle over Pakistan
And they wait
As before, they wait
And the Pakistanis see the clouds and run about in fright
They run this way and they run that way
For they know of the great flooding that has devastated their
neighbors
And are terrified that the same will happen to them
And these clouds look ominous; ominous and threatening they look
And the Pakistanis are frightened
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Queen of Heaven
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And in their fear what do they do
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Scribe
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They panic
Pure and simple; they panic
I see people carrying their possessions and fleeing
They want to escape before the rains pour down
I see carts piled up with all their possessions
As they flee the city; as they flee the countryside
As they flee their country
For they are frightened
They know of their neighbors’ devastation
And they are frightened
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Queen of Heaven
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And do they get on their knees and pray
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Scribe
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Mother, I see an old woman here and an old man there
They are on their knees praying, for they do not want to leave
They are too old to run
They are too old and have no desire to start again in a new place
And so they remain and they are on their knees praying
Some of them are
Some of them resignedly lay down to wait the flood and die
Most of the populace is fleeing
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Queen of Heaven
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And then what happens
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Scribe
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The clouds must have gotten the nod
For they rip open the floodgates
And they are in action!
The rain pours down with a harsh severity
There is great wind
Great, great wind
And no the people had not fled in time
The rain pours down upon them
Beats down upon them even as they are fleeing
No, though they fled as soon as they saw the clouds
They did not flee in time
And in fact are on the streets and away from home
And even more vulnerable to the storm
And I see the streets flooded and I see bodies floating
Down the rivers that were the streets
Bodies; bodies; bodies
And I see a person swimming; swimming; swimming
And finally his strength gives out
And he succumbs and drowns
I see the animals swimming
I see the fear in their eyes
And yes they too drown
For the wind and the rain continue
They do not abate
They do not abate
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Queen of Heaven
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And now what do you see
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Scribe
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And now the sky has cleared
It is over
The wind is gone; the clouds have emptied themselves onto the land
And I see the old people who remained in their homes and prayed
I see them on the roofs of their houses crying into their hands
They are crying; crying for their loved ones are all gone
And they know full well that their loved ones are dead
And no, they do not wish to live
No they do not
They are too old for this
And they are bitter about surviving
While their children and grandchildren died
They are bitter
And they curse God
Why did you spare me oh God. Why
And they weep
And they weep
And they weep
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Queen of Heaven
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And now what happens
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Scribe
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And the waters slowly gradually recede
And now we can see the streets
And now we can see the carnage
The streets are littered with the dead
There are more dead than alive
And the stench of the dead fills the air
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Queen of Heaven
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And the people alive. What do they do
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Scribe
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Some of them give into despair
And die from that
They simply lie down and die
They cannot face this; no, they cannot
There are too many dead; there are not enough alive
And now I see fires burning on the streets
People pile up the bodies and set them on fire
And the smoke rises up
And yes now all the dead have been disposed of
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Queen of Heaven
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And the people remaining
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Scribe
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They are listless
They are depressed
They are at a loss
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Queen of Heaven
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Do they pray
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Scribe
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My Mother I do not see them praying
They are too depressed it would seem to pray
I see an occasional fist being raised at the sky
But mostly the people are at a loss
They are at a loss and know not what to do with themselves
They know not what to do
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Queen of Heaven
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And the government
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Scribe
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Is not apparent
I do not see the government able to govern
For the government of course is made up of individuals
And many of them died
And those who survived are simply people
And like the other people they too are listless and lost
And do not know what to do
And are now functioning as grieving individuals
And not as members of a government
They are in grief; they are stunned
They are in shock
They are helpless
The people truly are helpless
And now I see that more deaths continue
There is no need; no apparent cause for these death
But the dying continues
It seems that hopelessness alone kills
For truly there seems to be no reason for the deaths
I am not perceiving illnesses
Nor even lack of food and water
For the waters have by now completely receded
The bodies have been disposed of
The streets are clear
Those who have survived could get up and continue on with their lives
If they wanted to, but they don’t
They don’t seem to want to
They truly do not
For too many of them have died
Not a single survivor has been spared the loss of a loved one
Not one
Each is grieving
Each is grieving
Each is grieving
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Mother Mary
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And is there aid
Do their neighbors come to their aid
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Scribe
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No they do not
For they are not in dire need
There is no disease
There is no flooding
There is no natural disaster occurring
The disaster has come and has gone
And there are more urgent situations elsewhere
That the relief workers are attending to
And so Pakistan is overlooked
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Mother Mary
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And what happens
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Scribe
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My Mother, it is truly shocking
But the people continue dying
It would seem that they have just given up
And they die
One after the other they die
And now I am seeing the fires in the streets again
Pakistan is being depopulated as I watch
The survivors do not flee
They do not make any attempt to survive
It is as though they are shell-shocked
And they are immobilized
And they simply succumb
One by one by one they succumb
And they die
They die
They die
And the streets are silent
Pakistan is as a ghost town
And the few who still remain
Feel themselves to be shades
To be ghosts themselves
To be as dead as they are alive
And this feeling translates to yet more deaths
And more deaths
Until truly it seems that there are only a few hundred people left
In the whole country of Pakistan
And finally these people
They cannot stay
No they cannot
Not in this land of the dead
And so these few remaining hundreds
Pack up their belongings
And slowly, slowly emigrate
To whomever will accept them
Some have relative in neighboring countries
And they go to them
Others just go to the nearest country
And since there are so few of them
They are accepted in
They are allowed to move in and restart their lives
And now the great country of Pakistan is empty
It is eerie
It is a ghost country
This huge land mass that has nothing wrong with it
Has been completely depopulated
It is empty of all life
The structures, many of them remain
Many of them have been destroyed
But many of them remain
And they are empty
They are empty
They are empty
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Mother Mary
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Is there an attempt to repopulate Pakistan
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Scribe
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No there is not, for the country is now seen as the land of the dead
The dead inhabit that country, the people say
Move there and die, the people say
And no, there is no repopulation of Pakistan that I can see
Pakistan has died
Pakistan has died
Pakistan has died
It is the land of the dead
It has died
Along with its people, it has died
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