Perched Near the Volcano

these radiating, seemingly endless rows of dust-choked porticoes in the bustling Roman forum. Receding to the vanishing point: sun-drenched streets, Ways to, hours for due mythology; busy temples; gleaming marble columns; massive, stone arches rising through the wafting dust, through climbing, curling shafts of dark, fragrant incense; a general push and shove; all the chaos and clamor that any self-respecting business man could ever hope to bring to bear. But then, suddenly, an uncanny silence descends upon all and sundry: resultant astonishment, utter amazement on every upturned face around. Then a deep, mighty rushing. Sound and fury, to be sure, but those like the fearsome clapping and booming of rolling thunder itself, like the wild, uncontrollable crackling of lightning itself. A deafening wind howls and wails. Eyes finally see. Unstopped with lies, ears finally hear. Warmed with love and reason the human heart once again beats with human feeling and compassion, with perspective and saving Knowledge.