A Hard Rain is About to Fall

A Hard Rain is About to Fall
Oh, what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?I'm a-Beijing.' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin',I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest,Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters,Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,Where the executioner's face is always well hidden,Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten,Where black is the color, where none is the number,And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it,Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin',But I'll know my song well before I start singin',And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard,It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
- Bob Dylan 1963
It's 7:30 in the evening and I am preparing for my trips to Beijing, London and Cape Town.
There are still many people who are suffering from blood lust. They will be satisfied in part by the event coming up in and around Israel. All the current active evil and all the evil hidden must be spent before the human race moves on.
The outline for the conclusion and the beginning that follows is straightforward to me because I've seen it but as for the four billion souls that are now confused - some nearly insane the situation appears hopeless. It is far from hopeless, it miraculous.