A cloud rose from a vast sea. Baruch watched it ascend — enormous, churning, filled with waters both black and bright, shot through with colors, and crowned at its summit by a bolt of lightning so intense it seemed alive. The cloud passed swiftly across the sky and covered the entire earth. Then it began to rain.
First came black waters — dark, many, lasting a long time. Then bright waters, but fewer. Then black again. Then bright. Twelve alternations in all, and the black waters always outnumbered the bright. At the very end, the cloud released the darkest waters of all — blacker than anything that had come before — and fire was mixed in with them. Wherever these final waters fell, they wrought devastation and destruction.
Then the lightning that had crowned the cloud seized it and hurled it to the earth. The lightning blazed so brightly it illuminated the entire world. It healed the regions devastated by the last black waters. It took hold of the whole earth and had dominion over it. Twelve rivers rose from the sea and surrounded the lightning, becoming subject to it.
Baruch awoke in terror.
He prayed for interpretation, and the angel Ramiel — the one who presides over true visions — was sent to him. Ramiel revealed the meaning of every drop.
The cloud itself was the duration of the entire world, created when God took counsel to make it. The first black waters were the transgression of Adam — the moment that untimely death, grief, anguish, pain, disease, and the demands of Sheol all came into being. The darkness of that first sin produced more darkness. Some angels descended and mingled with human women. Those who dwelt on earth perished in the great flood.
The first bright waters were Abraham and his descendants — the time when the unwritten law was named, when the works of the commandments were fulfilled, when belief in coming judgment was born and the promise of the world to come was first planted.
The pattern continued through all of history. Black waters for the sins of the nations in Egypt. Bright waters for Moses, Aaron, Miriam, and Joshua — the generation when the lamp of eternal law shone on all who sat in darkness. God showed Moses the measures of fire, the depths of the abyss, the weight of the winds, the number of raindrops, the suppression of anger, the root of wisdom, the height of the air, the greatness of Paradise, the mouth of Gehinnom, and the splendor of the angels.
Black waters for the wickedness of the Amorites and the sins of Israel under the judges. Bright waters for David and Solomon — the building of Zion, the dedication of the Temple, when wisdom was heard in the assembly and the land was glorified beyond all lands. Black waters for Jeroboam's golden calves, the curse of Jezebel, and the captivity of the ten tribes. Bright waters for Hezekiah — whose righteousness moved God to send Ramiel himself to destroy 185,000 of Sennacherib's commanders in a single night, burning their bodies from within while leaving their armor intact.
Black waters for Manasseh, who made an idol with five faces and was finally cast into a brazen horse that was heated until it melted. Bright waters for Josiah — the king who cleansed the land, restored the offerings, burned the bones of the wicked from their graves, and was so zealous that he left none uncircumcised. He would receive an eternal reward.
The darkest waters — the eleventh black — were the destruction of Jerusalem itself. Even the angels grieved. "Do you think there is no anguish among the angels," Ramiel asked, "that Zion was delivered up?"
The final bright waters represented a future restoration — a time when the people would be saved, their enemies would fall, Zion would be rebuilt, offerings restored, and priests would return to their ministry. But not fully. Not as in the beginning.
And the lightning that crowned the cloud, that blazed across the whole earth, that healed what the darkest waters had destroyed? That was the Messiah. He would summon all nations. Some he would spare. Some he would slay. Joy would be revealed. Rest would appear. Disease would withdraw. No one would die untimely. Wild beasts would come from the forest to serve humanity. Women would bear children without pain. The reapers would never grow weary. And the works of the righteous would advance of their own accord, in much tranquility.
For that time would be the end of what is corruptible — and the beginning of what is not.