Richard A. Hanson © 2005
I dreamed that I awoke one morning to the most beautiful voice I had ever heard singing in a language that while familiar to me, I didn’t understand. The voice coming through my open window seemed far away and was almost inaudible. I hastily dressed and went out to see if I could find the source.
As I opened the door, I was greeted by dense fog that made vision more than a few feet impossible. Still, I wanted to find the source of the singing and I walked toward the sound in the fog. As I walked the singing grew louder and the words clearer to my ears. It was a strange language strange yet vaguely familiar. The sound of a single voice perfectly on pitch the most beautiful voice I had ever heard. The words were:
“Requiem aternam doni aeis Domine, at lux peppertua luce at eis. Te decet hymnus Deus inn Sion, et tibi redduetur votum in
Slowly the meaning of the words dawned on me. It was the Solemn High Mass for the Dead being sung in Latin. The fog cleared a bit and I was able to see the singer, an almost blinding aura of light surrounded the most beautiful perfect being I had ever laid eyes on.
I asked “who are you and although your voice is beautiful, why do you sing The Mass for the Dead.”
The being replied, “I am the Michael, the
I asked “and what of me" and before the angel could answer, there came a clatter of hooves behind me, and as I turned, out of the fog broke the 4 Horsemen and Death upon his pale horse was in the lead swinging his great sword and shouting “there is the one we missed, get him!”
Screaming, I awoke, the dream was so real so vivid, I could still almost hear the angel singing. I gathered my composure looked at the clock, heavens, I had overslept, I was going to be late for work. Still I could almost hear the singing ringing in my ears. It was a very strange and troubling dream.
Hurriedly I dressed and ran for the door. I stepped outside and noticed there was a light fog and it was unusually quiet, but I guess that’s what it’s like after the morning rush.
As I moved across the lawn to my car at the curb, I heard the clatter of hooves behind me. As I turned, the 4 Horsemen broke from the fog with Death upon his pale horse in the lead, swinging his great sword and shouting “there is the one we missed, get him!”