4 of Swords

On the 3rd night of the new moon, I saw a hand reach out from the sky and plucked a bird in mid flight. The storm was like the wrath of Gods from long ago, angry and vengeful. I sent the vision to a friend on wings of a butterfly so he may interpret its meaning.

A hermit hidden deep in the Skull Mountain, he speaks in the language of angels. We spoke at length of the vision and what he said froze the very blood in my veins. He said that in the vision, he saw heaven coming to earth; like in the last days of Sodom and Gomorrah where angels brought destruction like we have never seen before.

He told of fire and lightening, of rain and floods and I bid him stop for I knew not what it meant. We spoke at dusk just as the sun was sinking into the horizon, bringing with it the last remnants of light.

Later, I heard that a sparrow was taken in the middle of a storm. It was hurled to the ground and died in an instant. The sparrow carried with it, souls destined to return to the source in the sacred month of Ramadhan.

Indeed, heaven came to earth that day and with it came angels riding on winged horses to carry our brothers and sisters home. Know we not that in the darkest moments of our lives, there is light even if we cannot see it?