Now, even days after the event, I still find it difficult to understand what it is that was portrayed. My words do not do justice to what was seen. How can I explain what I fully saw? Perhaps my imagination is playing a trick on me, or rather is playing the same trick over and over again. It’s as if what was seen has become arrested at a particular frame. In my imagination I see the light come on again and the images flow on. The script is different each time but not the end towards which the action is flowing and some words come to mind “In my fathers house there are many mansions.” I hope this is true and if it is true that what was seen in the vision will not eventuate ...

Once again, I was thrown into another place. The wall is still broken, still falling but something has changed, the sands have quivered. A shifting of oaths, a new movement of purposes? There was no table only a group of people who stood erect, pallid of face, staring ahead as if alone - each man of himself alone. (Until they are themselves of the soul, they’ll remain strangled by the chains within them.) Scornful and forever grumbling, they will become weakened by their display of nothingness. Their shadows will continue to hover at the cross roads even at noon. Voices raged without purpose, argumentative. Shadowy faces became tense. One face remained impervious, almost menacing, its whiteness not that of goodness though perhaps of fealty. He who will remain undeterred, who will bring death by his faithfulness, will also deceive. Around him blood flows, at first a trickle and then a deep broad river, rushing, tumbling. Chanting heard beneath is depths, echoing, echoing ... Face upon face passed me by. Those that stand alone disappeared within its torrent of bitterness and despair, submerged in a hate of their own making. The four with crowns upon their heads worked frantically, shoring up that which had broken free which threatened to bring death and destruction to surrounding lands but they have also remained solitary and aloof and will become broken. Behind them, huge and immovable, wings outstretched, covering those within its reach, remained the eagle, eyes wide open, unblinking. Head raised it screamed its own anger and agony caught within the brilliant flash of light. Undeterred it remained, scorched, blackened but not broken hovering, and watching.

Time turns, the wind blows, the sands rise and subside, the wheel of time marches forward. Emptiness and desolation remained, nothing seen but white bones scattered across empty landscape. The deads’ flame is blown out and ever more shall be so.

Something else occurred - words were spoken, words which I’ve forgotten and cannot for the life of me recall. Why do I feel bereaved, as though I’d lost someone only recently. It weighs heavily upon me, this unknown loss.