The line on the horizon

I stood upon a cliff and gazed out across the wide expanse of the sea. Grey was the water, and grey the clouds. All was flat, calm. On the horizon was a line, a little wave, a gentle swell. My Father had me attend to that line. To and fro go the people in the city, addressing this and that. The line moves closer, and as it does it begins building, swelling, and accelerating. Too late does it dawn upon the residents of the city, the reality of what is coming.

The structures, the houses, that people have built will be tested. They often look quite similar. But some have foundations, roots and strength. And others, they have no foundations at all. When the waves crash in, those with no root will lift, will smash against each other, will topple and break up.

It seems this is nothing new. The warning is now three times in three decades.

P.S. I should note this word does not speak to immediate events. But rather part of the shakings I’ve written about many times here. I may write further on current matters soon.

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