Apocalyptic Dream

With a commanding presence and determined stride, I examine many people, thousands of them in the streets from all factions of life, lined up and seated upon the sidewalks, some leaning against the concrete walls.

The rain and bad weather has beaten them to death, women, and children despairing under conditions even the old and young soldiers among us dreaded, I dreaded, but I won’t let it show, my entire body wracked with exhaustion I stand strong, after all I’ve faced these conditions many times and have had several mental meltdowns on account of the extreme hardships, my God has prepared me to lead for just such a time, all the while I thought I was being punished. It is written, “All things work for the good of those who love God.” 

Dirty faces and hands, torn clothing, most of them having not showered in weeks, some months. I am moved with compassion, I feel them as if they are my own body, every fiber of my being is consumed with this single determination, warmth, and safety.

There is no distance I won’t go or trial I won’t face, no enemy too big, nothing will stop me, my purpose surpasses the giant standing before me. 

Gazing upon an empty building easily 10 stories high, I confront its door. As we walk into a massive corridor a man dressed in a nice suit approaches me and stopping at a distance and adjusting his glasses with his pointer he says, “You can’t be here this is my building!”

My steps are as exact as a captain and commander of men who followed out of respect, black leather combat boots strike the floor resonating rhythmically through the silence, I stop eyes piercing him directly in the soul, silence stills the whole room even a heartbeat wouldn’t dare interrupt and for a fleeting moment my legs almost shook, no I’m not backing down. “You think you are going to deny these people warmth and safety? No you’re not.” and turning to my people I raise a fist in the air “WARMTH AND SAFETY!” and the crowd roared ‘WARMTH AND SAFETY, WARMTH AND SAFETY!” 

I turn back to the man trembling before me in fear, shattering within himself, the crowd moves as a slow storm past me, some brushing against me, my long dark cloak as a flag in the wind, hundreds of men women, and children, the sick, the elderly, the lame, and all manner of people of all colors of skin, and of all walks of life surged the building.

A group composed mostly of middle-aged women, some in their sixties or seventies, service workers before chaos struck, before the Apocalypse… They entered a room once used as the front desk and the main office and began assigning rooms to those who were disabled.

Pens flying, notebooks opened, they have done well, strategy became reality and I am proud of them for the perfect execution of everything I taught them. They will be fed, clothed, warm and dry, even beds are being made, they can rest, and my anxieties are relieved, finally I can rest.   

I wake up, pondering the meaning of the dream… 

The righteous considers the cause of the poor: but the wicked regards not to know it. Open thy mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy. (Proverbs 29:7, Proverbs 31:9)

“I know not what course others may choose, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death.” (Patrick Henry 1776)