Since the dawn of Man's time I have walked this earth. I have watched civilizations rise, and I have witnessed their falls; some quickly, and some slowly.

I have begged, pleaded, prayed. I have been born, and I have died, watching, hoping, always believing somehow upright sentient would prevail against it's enemies.

I have been outraged; I have been deeply disappointed. I have been dishonoured by the very people I should have been able to trust the very most; I have been abandoned at the precise time I needed defense most. But never more than in this lifetime, this life of the winnowing.

Civilization is crumbling. As usual, the closer to the end we come, the faster the downward spiral.

Approximately two hours ago I was awakened by the sound of sirens, a man screaming and weeping, a woman's voice growing louder, more desperately pleading. Spanish voices, then an American police officer ordering, "Don't move!" The Hispanic man's cries turning to sobs.

More sirens, and the sounds of heavier vehicles-fire engines and ambulances, and I thought the apartment complex was on fire.

But my first thought was to roll off of the bed, and find a corner of the room in which to huddle so as to avoid the strike of a random bullet.

I know these sounds in the night.

Despair.

A man has lost everything. A family has been forever rent. I heard, through the closed, locked, sliding glass door of my room, two policemen talking, one saying, "There are three children inside." I started praying again.

Rachel weeps, her lament a rising crescendo in the darkest hours before the morning light will reveal the crime scene tape; blood pooling and congealing on the macadam.

I don't imagine this little tragedy will make the morning news. This is Metro Atlanta, and doubtless larger tragedies are playing out in other parts of the area to displace it.

My neighbours are not gossips-a bad sign if you are as old as I am, and have seen what I have seen.

When a people stop gossiping it is a sure sign they have deliberately turned blind, deaf, and mute in an effort to ward off any evil coming closer than it already has.

It is a psychological response to an overload of negative stimuli-denial, avoidance, deliberate ignorance.

I have seen this, too, over and over again through the millennia.

I was in Rome when they murdered the Christ. They called me a pagan, heathen. But even then I was a One God'er.

When we escaped Greece, we were; in Egypt, when Ahmon opened his heart to the truth and sought to lead his people to Ra-The Light! There were we in joy; history yet calls the man an idolator.

Too, present were we when the Light came from the Heaven and smote the twin cities for it's unspeakable practices. My husband said, "There is a wrongness here, let's us be gone from this place-NOW" An urgency in his voice turned our caravan not an hour into the city's fetid gates, we fled as far and fast as the horses, camels, and mules could move.

When the Light struck we were miles from the awful place, yet the column of eerie light over brightened the entire world it seemed; my husband, his men, the horses, all circled without a word or shout; he flung himself over me and repeated, "Do not look!"

The earth trembled for hours after, no matter how far we got away.

No-one spoke for days as we put as much space as possible between us and that place scorched so completely not even the stench of death emanated from it.

We stopped when we reached The Outer Steppes.

We are Travellers, although you would not know by our looks, our works, our lives. We settle, marry, give birth, pay taxes, build communities, with you, for you. We are no different than any one of you, we want the same things for our little ones that we have observed a great majourity of you want for yours-peace and safety from the cries in the night wrenched from all of our heart by the despair the Enemy feeds on.

The only difference is that we remember. You always seem to chose not to; I have been fastened to a wood pole, great humps of smallwood about my skirts, simply because I have tried to share what I have learned from my lives with you-as have many of my kind.

Because we are One True God'ers. Our only thought to obey His Ten Simple Rules To Live By that we may know and share the soul-safety that arises from the sanctuary of His peace.

We watch. When the Evil comes, we move, trying to take as many of you with us as we can persuade. To survive. To try again. Elsewhere.

But now, there is no Elsewhere. Humankind has spread so far on this world there is no Elsewhere left for us to flee to, and we must dig in and hope there is something left to rebuild on when the dust settles.

I have spoken so many languages I am rendered inarticulate now by the exhaustion wrought by trying to keep them from spilling out of my mouth in heated moments, and thus revealing myself.

Saul of Tarsus said a few true things-"We are not born in a spirit of fear!" Yet I am afraid, because this most critical time sees me utterly alone, and I am deeply afraid of what you can do in the panic a dying civilization engenders.

Although my husband and I have lived and died many times apart, yet were we one, and now I am truly Walks Alone Woman.

Worse still, my father is dead, and cannot protect me as he would have in previous times by marrying me to a good man who would stand beside me in honour. My brothers and my son seemingly devoted to the debauchery and denial.

Oh Papa, now I understand that look in your eyes! That grief, which I mistook for disappointment in me that I was born yet again a woman, that horror re-born everytime you looked at me knowing I would face this time completely alone.

Now is the Time of The Winnowing; he said it would come.

The Christ, our King, our over-lord; the Holy Messenger-The Chosen One. Murdered to maintain the status quo of fatlings who hoped to make his life a vanity; to lead us, you, all, away from salvation.

NOT the Jews, NOT the children of Israel.

But Philistines, merchant pimps, defilers! Dressed in the robes of the highest priests and frightened rat Roman senators.

And poor Pilate, he who converted, who washed his hands publicly to show the known world his absolute disdain for the murder they sought to make him commit. In Rome, we knew what was happening. He died, too, not much later after the murder; he never recanted but cherished the teaching he had from the Greatest Rabbi.

FOOLS! Is there any better politician than an angry Roman? Any more honourable man than a contemptuous Roman pro-counsel who sees the truth?

Two thousand years you have had to save yourselves, but you are not content with your own destruction-you choose to take your little ones with you to Hell??

Truly it is the handwriting on the wall when 'spell-check' does not recognize words such as 'defilers' and 'idolator' - how can you miss it?!

And did he not warn you this day would come?

The King is dead; Long Live the King!