Can I tell you in these quiet moments before the storm what the future holds?

I wish I could my loves, I wish beyond all things that I knew,

The distant shores of things yet to come are to me as hushed mist that enfolds

The eye and mind so deeply that all seems untrue,

And I would say, Do not fear consequence but rather the creeping paralysis,

That grips all hearts and minds hypnotic, as a weaving snake,

Locked in bitter argument regarding which has the most accurate analysis,

When in truth we know that most argue for arguments sake,

As Canute vainly sits at the tidal boundary convinced the sea's are his to command,

So are we that vehemently deny the balance which must be paid,

Be sure beyond question that time, tide and consequence cannot be stayed by your hand,

Nor by good intention or empty promises that were made,

The moment approaches in which all resolve will be tested against destruction,

In which all faith will be called upon to offer each sorry soul a shield,

As the howling storm carelessly dismantles all human construction,

And the gentle earth that ever lay beneath, is to us revealed.