Where are the prophets of legend? Why do we discard, discount and disregard the words of the prophets in our modern world? Paul Simon penned the lyrics to “The Sound of Silence” just a few short decades ago, and in my limited understanding of prophetic visions, I believe the lyrics were channeled from the Source of All Creation, verbatim.
“And the sign said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence.” Paul Simon
My eyes were opened to the vision of a column of light emanating from the surface of the earth and penetrating the mantle of cloud cover above. Gliding toward the column it became clear that it was encircled by a bark-like covering of human bodies ascending a trunk of the purest light of life force. Drawn in by the beauty of this unforgettable vision, I moved in. With the intentions of becoming part of this massive daisy chain of humanity, I grasped the hand of one human currently leaving the ground and instinctively extended my free hand down to be grasped by another. We ascended skyward in silent ecstasy and blissful union. Arriving in a place of absolute immateriality, there appeared before me, an entity beyond description. The form of the entity was unimportant, and somehow my mind comprehended this truth. The message of the entity was of imminent importance to my human family. The Being requested the Three. Three what? Was my Core’s reply. I have no means to enter this immaculate world of incredible light. The ultimate damnation of lack, pricked my heart with despair. The entity gestured toward a hole in the floor of light. The hole was of the most insidious darkness my soul could comprehend and I was certain that absolute madness and unimaginable pain and suffering were just below the light in that hole. Knowing this was a moment of redemption or damnation, I was drawn to the hole by inner courageousness. I somehow knew that this was a moment of truth. I either face my fears here and now, or run from them eternally. I leaned in and reached into the terrifying blackness below. To my absolute joy, I removed my arm, with hand intact, and three “conceptual objects” (for lack of a better real world description) in the palm of my hand. They were pulsating with the same light of life bursting from the column of light that carried me here. I turned about, intending to offer the Three to the entity requesting them, and realized the entity had fulfilled its purpose and had moved on. Turning back toward the hole, I witnessed a line of Beings extending beyond my perceptual capacity. They were moving up to the dreadful black hole, and one by one, reaching in and retrieving their personal redemption, without fear. As I absorbed the full impact of this incredible vision, I found myself back at the base of the column, grounded, and yet, forever unleashed. Freed from the bondage of earthly fear.
This recount may be offensive to some of my readers, but it is not my intention to offend anyone. Some will scoff and dismiss, but that is the nature of Being human. Personally, I can profess with all the transparency and integrity that I can muster: These visions are more real to me than all the objective perceptions of the material world where we share our coexistence.
"Grand Providentia United" 