The young woman from Palestine was emphatic
“Prophecy is not for sale!” She wasn’t referring
to the cheapness some now pass off as prophecy,
the predictions of rapture and hellfire to come
that some embrace for solid ground in these
quick sands of time.

No, it was with the breath
of Miriam and Deborah, Isaiah and Amos that
she breathed, remembering those whose prophecies
stood not as a foretelling but a forthtelling—
speaking forth the truth about what was happening NOW,
telling out the tales that others wanted to ignore.

I doubt these prophets ever passed the hat
because what they said wasn’t often popular, and
more than one risked death because they
refused to sell their prophecies, refused to
shape them into something that could more easily
fit their listeners’ ears

The young woman who has seen the rivers of blood
in her homeland has also heard the breath of Christians
at the door who believe that these are the days
of prophecies being fulfilled. Casting their lots
in the Holy Land, they gamble for the cloak of rapture
while the holy ones die all around them.

She just reminded me of you Hildegard, that’s all.
Prophecies and visions.
The real ones don’t often make you rich.

Jan L. Richardson, Sacred Journeys: A Woman’s Book of Daily Prayer, pp. 364-5.