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The Judgment March (A Vision)

The field was splendid, a day of sunshine and for some

Confidence, for others: a lack of poise-

The entire cycle of humanity turned out

There were angelic beings alongside the route to view

The spectacle (we were the spectacle-in mass)

We all began walking, as if marching, at first light, and

By midday not even one eighth the enormous human

Gathering of mankind had taken the road yet!…

The incredible cloud of dust raised by the stomping

And tramping of feet cloaked the light of the sun

So much so, we were not able to see the entire

Mass in a single glance, as we looked back, but no

Doubt, billions and billions of solemn faces passed

In the wide columns!

Then I got thinking, thought after thought: why

So many sad faces, was not adequate warning given

To those who doubted God’s end time intentions?

That this day would surely someday come?

Whatever the case -I heard an angelic voice echo:

“Even Satan’s impressed” (meaning with this massive

march to judgment) who was now bound in chains

In some underground grotto; although absent,

And evidently, would not be joining the march-

Could see all that took place.

The procession was led by several angelic beings,

Behind us followed groups of Angelic Powers-these

Were followed by big-eyed, long winged, broad

Oxen-shouldered, enormous, seraphs-; and above:

We could see the heavens were laden with a strange

Angelic forces I couldn’t name, I called: Spartan

Like warriors with jagged scars running halfway

Down the side of their faces, some crisscrossing

Their necks, foreheads; some bearded some not,

A hundred thousand of them-

I thought: who could resist them? Troops heavily

Equipped with: swords, whips, and shields, battleaxes,

Chains, long and short spears and all sorts of deadly

Ancient weaponry-black of teeth!

They looked fearsome, seemingly holdovers from a

Time of the Titans, or Angelic Renegades, who were

Taller than the tallest trees on earth, wrinkled with

Age and time: these creatures had long ears and two tails,

One in front and one in back, and they all collaborated

In unison-

And they looked upon us as if a grand review was

About to finish! And they threw down-from out of their

Pouches at their hips, grub-worms, and grasshoppers

To fill the bellies of those who were hungry, but I was

Not hungry, nor those of my kind, yet it was that they

Were sympathizing with the tare… those with

Twisting frames, knees swaying, those lamed or pained

With hunger… !

And those who had thirst, could not be heard above

The roaring of the march, and again, I was not thirsty,

Nor any of my kind: the sounds of their crying voices

Rushed in a torrent through our ears-alongside us, as if

We were caught through a narrow gap of hills, echoing:

And I held my ears tight, but it was as if my hands

Wear ridden with holes… from the echoes, and cries

Of the damned; then I noticed a colony of rodents,

Rodents running as if to their master of arms, startling

Those who were marked-

And I looked at all this curiously within my vision!

And it was as if the forsaken completely ignored me,

But knew of my presence; artificial unawareness

Of my presence: I think they had wondered how it was

That I came to be there; the skin around their mouths

Were filthy from the dust and debris, gorged with dirt

Around their lips and snot from their nose that seemed

To be unable to wiped off; they looked at me disdainfully

Looking at them, they barked like dogs at me-not

Wanting to blink or glance at me, merely continue to chew

The grasshoppers and the glistening white larvae:

I, think they understood, we were close at hand to the

Field of Ruling… Marching to their second death!

What I gathered from all this was they were stricken

Gasping not from exhaustion but from the soul-purging

Effect of sheer terror, of soon to be in the hands of the

Almighty!

Hence, the voice of Elohim ordered the angelic warriors,

Those Spartan like troops, to circle back-

To the end of the mass to continue assisting in

The march forward… and they obeyed… almost faster

Than I could see! Without even looking at me! In one

Swift motion,

And there were drummers and pipers to keep the

Marching feet in cadence; and shouting orders in

Strange tongues, and there was even competition,

Within these angelic brigades, one unit trying to

Outdo the other, and they knew at a glance-watchful

As they were, what souls were spoiled, and which

Were not!

Far ahead was the Prince of Peace Himself, he

Rode a white princely horse-an Arabian Stallion,

As thousands of saints wearing identical white,

Walked along and beside Him, so I was told,

By my guardian angel, Surr’el, who couldn’t help

But point this out… ; his horse prancing and

Snorting, and proud!

And the King of Kings motionless, with a

Golden helmet that glittered in the sun looked upon

The ranks of the marching angels with banners! –

As the breeze blew cool air through the heat of the

Day, freshening the gaping Jaws of the many;

And in-between, each, were the good and the bad;

That is to say: the tare and the wheat;

The good soil and the bad soil; the weedy plants

In the grain field! The unwelcome and objectable

For they were the ones in rage, waving their long

Fluttering arms every-which-way-and we were taken

Out of this mass, one by one, as not to allow them

To be brought to the place of honor reserved for the

Wheat, and the saints, prophets, and Disciples of Christ… !

Although they would be, in across from us, in the

Unsanctified field-

They detested this, tried to veto this matter among the

Seraphim, to the point it was difficult to restrain them

From pounding on us, as we left!

As we had marched shoulder to shoulder for some time,

And all we could do for them was well-wish-: that being,

Once we left, and hope that their sins were not

Completely unpardonable, –

As the shinning ones, in their demeanor and discipline,

Touched the saved on the shoulders-from every nation

On earth, as if we were handpicked!

This was to separate us-from those who were unsaved

Who now stayed behind and was slowly gaining a grudging

Respect for us…

Now we were separated from the tare,

And from the rear came five legions of scythe chariots

(thirty-thousand in all) with curved blades on their hubs,

Whirling portentously through the air, and the tare, the

Mass that was left, loathed, to such gimmickry,

but to the angelic forces it was merely retinue,

For such an enormous mob!

Beside them were a million haughty horsemen,

Accompanied by an equal number of carriers, of:

Lavish robes and garments, for ceremonial events

(yet to take place)…

Even chalices, and incense, and scrolls to be read-: it

Was in essence, the royal wardrobe, despite their size

Surr’el told me, all sizes will fit.

From this point, an unending column of scribes to take

Down every utter, and observation, every moment

Of the event- (among them): historians, poets,

Philosophers, all present!

To have been there would make one’s head spin. And

There I was among the many, now watching the straggling

Jeering and cheering crowd I followed-a complete

Representation of the human race: the entire lower strata

Of humanity was thicker than the middle and higher

Strata of humankind… no doubt for good reason!

We were despised by the tare, the bad seed, I could see

By looking to my right… the army of the ultimate extremist,

Who thought they were protected by death or Satan:

Otherwise the life they lived would not have been

Rendered so densely and indifferent to the wages of sin!

They provided little to no service to mankind

I was told… wasted on self-interest tasks, a mundane life…

Like I said, to have been there would make one’s head spin.

And in my vision, my head was spinning, and spinning… to

No end!

I shall not go into unnecessary detail regarding the vision,

The daily progress of the Judgment March, to the Field

Of Ruling; for the most part, – it was routine.

But our arrival was an ever-present chest of scented

Flowers and their peddles tossed in handfuls upon us

On each side of us, with open gestures of a generous

Giving of friendship…

Whereas, on the other side of us, the crowds milled

Frantically around the cavalcade of humanity-: as

Beggars from Tartarus, creating uproar as they

Scrambled in the dust to plead for a kind prayer from

Us, to lighten their load, for now they knew-soon

Doom would trample them underfoot. For they had

Heard-a prayer from the Wheat, would do so, and so

A few tight-lipped smiles (a half pleasant demeanor)

Was breaking the gravity of the moment: knowing

Good and well, once judgment was cast it would

Be the last… the very last moment for them, and if lost,

Forevermore-lost!

As far as the march went, I was no worse for wear

For me, Nor for my kind, any of my kind, I call them

The Wheat-lest I find another name for them before

This vision-poem is complete…

The effect on the tares must have been great, no longer

Ruffians of the old world, now howling in outrage-

The trail behind us, was now impossible for anyone

To go back on, it disappeared; thus, there was no

Options left, but in that direction to where Christ’s throne

Was; the trail backwards already filled with nothing but an

Ominous trickle of gray matter, falling off as if over a cliff

Into outer space, -gravity was pulling it to who

Knows where…

And here in the fields we all became somewhat acclimated.

The tares unmercifully giving the angelic beings their

Final complaints, to take to the king, and I heard one say:

“The worst is yet to come”; it was not a pun, it was truth.

The angelic forces appeared to have been expecting such.

And I watched all with interest.

It was here now in the Field of Ruling, Christ would

Punish the leering once unrestrained revelry;

Men affected by satyriasis; women, of the night-

Drunkards and alike, all the deadly sins of humankind

Would be judged once and for all, here, right here!

It was now that mankind had long waited for!

All joined together, as one core on opposite sides

Of the field-;

At this time all God’s foes were defeated-

Here the evil men were constantly picking at their faces,

As if inflamed with lice, perhaps intentionally out of

Fear; lice-infested as to raise even an eyebrow.

What then was to be expected once judgment was

Given from Christ’s throne?

In fact, as I stood there, Christ hardly even spoke at all,

Except to ask what they had to say for themselves…

And they could barely speak, yet giving to obeisance

To Christ! Begotten to the King!

There I stood surveying the situation in my vision,

Listening to the grumbling: in view of what I saw

I could only say, I was thankful of what the outcome

I had, that I was not too stubborn in my walk in life.

That perhaps somewhere along the line someone

Benefited from my decisions, that I might have had

A good impact on a few lives, as other lives had neutering

And a good impact on me! Knowing, good and well,

As for any decree from the King of Kings, Christ

Would have been final; and all that I could say was

“Satan, be damned be damned… ” for he took

Many souls with him…

Awaiting the judgment, the so called tares, grumbled as

I have said time and again, but Lord on his throne would

Not judge yet, perhaps this was the last opportunity for

Them to welcome a break from the routine of death and

Judgment, sprawling about in the low mud hovels with

A dusty square in the middle, they made likened to a

Gathering spot, here even they selected a sort of governor,

As the angelic troops stood far-back, lest they get

Caught in the massive population of abject-looking

Beings; pestilential environment, open sewage, choked

With dust, flies were tormenting, stench suffocating.

Out of earshot of me I saw and hear it all; in fact, they

Looked much more at home there than they ever had on

The march: splendor among thieves, who want to remain

Thieves among honest men! And there they would remain

Far to the right wing, until the judgment came…

And then it passed, the last day, and I could see the Lord’s

Hand he gave a quiet signal behind his back to the angelic Force,

to blast the salpinx, the Greek battle trumpet,

All the angelic forces snapped into a vertical ready position

With precision as if ready to attack: suddenly began the

Disgorge of spewing forth flames and all stiffened to listen

To the King of Kings, as the salpinx blasted once again, the

Urgent call for shields high… A hundred million angelic

Throats broke into a praising roar, per near deafening.

Now the only sound to be carried across, and

Reverberating, through the silent windblown fields, was that

Of the King of Kings… (Jesus Christ)!

Postscript: I thought after the vision, sitting on the edge

Of my bed: how shameless we humans are, or can be,

And be so readily available to cast blame on our humanity,

Expecting rights without responsibilities, and blaming God

Almighty for giving it to us, when it is time to be accountable-

Expecting clemency, and then parading back to our folly!

For during my March come all their sorrows come all

Their misery, and no one to blame but God, lest they

Blame them, themselves, and that they could not do,

Even while in front of one’s own, blind folly… what’s

To be made of this? I mumbled!

For I had heard many times on the march of all the wealth

This person or that person left behind, when departing,

And now ending on this ill-starred journey, unable to bear,

All that will befall them…

Written: 7-16-2013/ #4036 (Poem: 428/Galilean)/ By Dlsiluk

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