Autumns Processional
Leaves are falling, geese are calling, and a bright, beautiful, beaver moon reigns overhead. The night illumined by lunar light cast shadows captured by trees shred of their leaves and by fields of gold. Coyotes call, their shrill cries lifted to dark skies. A calm reigns, but in truth nothing is the same. I awake. Another night of restless sleep. Arising I embrace the dark stillness confronting the dreams that trouble my mind. Only 2% of humanity have critical thinking skills, while 8% think they can. 90% would rather die than think, never noticing the bright colored tag stapled to their ear, while they dine on a continual diet of carefully contrived fictions. It is only when the lens of truth is placed before our eyes that we see. ‘They Live’, John Carpenters Orwellian reveal, a dystopian future world, now your present reality. There is political correctness, hate crimes, hate speech, a cancel culture, and a woke mentality, people loving to be offended, the triumph of emotion over reason. It’s Alice in Wonderland and the Queen of Hearts declaring, sentence first verdict after. And now thought crimes. You cannot oppose the status quo or question the accepted narrative, repeated until believed. Am I evil because I tell you the events of Columbine, Sandy Hook, and Uvalde were orchestrated spawned by the Devil with no regard to the lives of the innocent? Am I evil because I question authority, the stories that are spun, and the narrative I am expected to believe? Do I cast out Devils by the power of the Devil?
Presently you are:
17,600 times more likely to die from a heart attack
11,000 times more likely to die in an airplane crash
1,048 times more likely to die in a car wreck
and 8 times more likely to die by the police
than a terrorist attack
Choosing security over freedom you have neither. You just comply. Is the fox, as in the news, guarding the hen house? And who watches the watchers?
It had been an uneventful but restless night. Awakened by your adjutant you are apprised of your situation. Surrounded by thousands of Lakota, Teton or Western Sioux, and the Northern Cheyenne led by Sitting Bull you have only a short time to survive. It’s early summer and the decision is made not to retreat but make a stand. Maybe you are in the autumn of your life grey haired and sitting with your wife. She hears but no longer understands, her mind emersed in a mist, a grey sky with eroding sand. The sun sets and the tide recedes, the hands of time still ticking. Or maybe the path you lead in life is still unfolding. You have plans and thoughts of a family of your own. Hopes, dreams, and schemes. For some the price of fuel, food, and a place to rent with a baby in the basket, is a formidable mountain. You pray for a way. For most denying the elephant in the room it’s turkey and pumpkin pie, visions of snowflakes falling from the sky and gifts to buy. Then it’s out with the old and in with the new, late night parties and football to view. Indifferent to a world coming to its end you do not believe the warnings of some old men, until the day the rain comes now too late for amends. Lovers of this world you danced to its music never considering the price it costs to play, now you have the piper to pay!
You cannot hold back the seasons. A beautiful fall day will yield to winter’s sway. Likewise, the sand in your hourglass continues to pursue its continuous retreat until finished, the number of grains not replenished. If you are growing old(er) it simply means there are still grains in the glass. You’re alive. Cheer up! Old age doesn’t last that long.
There is a season and a time for every purpose, both for men and nations which in the sight of God only amounts to a drop in a bucket. This includes the myth that is America. If you are not awakened to her passing or believe she can be restored by your selection at the next election your weeping and tears will fall on death ears. No government is Godly existing only for the benefit of a few. Don’t be found languishing over something that you believed in but found to be untrue, the lone mourner at the memorial pew. What you are seeing is the fulfillment of the Baconian idea of the New Atlantis established at the very beginning of this nation. America never was a God infused government with a miracle mandate from Heaven. If you take umbrage from these statements consider your own worth. Are you part of the masses who cannot embrace this level of exposure and honesty, created the Prophet Esdras said in vain? Or are you part of the few, the called, and the chosen.
It’s early morning the year 1876 on a barren Montana Territory countryside along the Little Big Horn River. You will be remembered as the Last Stand where everyone died. At least you don’t have to go back through the Dakotas.