- HYPOTHETICAL CONSOLAMENTUM -

 

VERSION FRANCOPHONE      OTHER POEMS          

 

SUMMARY OF LEARNERS      INTRO & VOCAB

 

(Recited during the Middle Ages, by Languedoc Cathari perfecti during a deathwatch, much as Buddhist monks would recite from The Tibetan Book of the Dead during a deathwatch).

 

This poem is entirely of my invention.  I dedicate it to my father who died before I could recite it to him, to all those who confront the uncertainties of life and death heroically, without the least spiritual shield, and to everyone who must die one more time, before they may apply it…

 

Be not afraid,

Oh Nobly Born,

For you are Saved.

 

Christ will shoulder

Your Karmic Burden,

No matter how damning

It may seem to you.

 

Breathe deeply,

Breathe softly,

Oh Nobly Born.

 

Close your eyes

And be at peace.

Die easily, sweetly,

And be at peace,

This one last time.

 

Let your soul escape

From this failing body,

With confidence, hope, and joy eternal;

As you would approach

Your own wedding,

As Christ taught us.

 

Oh Nobly Born!

You have bailed out of a million billion bodies

Before this one.

In as many death agonies,

Many, many lifetimes

Full of pain, fear and anxiety

Made up your destiny

Until this day.

 

You are free from all that now.

 

After you have freed yourself

From this mortal shell,

Like a pilot would bail out

Of his burning fighter plane,

Your discarnate, drifting soul

Will cruise space and time

Until you tire of its hard vacuum,

Dusty dull silence and drudgery.

 

You may revisit,

Like a jaded old tourist,

All the stars in heaven,

And watch universes

Take birth, flare out and die

Of intense beauty.

Or simply listen to sweet birdsong,

And watch the flowers grow,

From the rising to the setting of the sun.

 

You may run into

Beasts, Angels and Daemons

Reflecting your own

Desires, Hopes and Fears,

Whom you may choose

To touch and be touched by,

For good or ill.

 

You may tarry here on Earth,

Wander its homes and range,

Haunt places familiar or strange,

Revisit old offspring and lovers,

Lost and heartsick,

For as long as you can bear it.

 

You will soon tire of this,

Oh Nobly Born.

Sooner or later,

Your soul will long,

More and more urgently,

For another carnal life.

 

You will fall back into life,

Free-fall backward into life,

As a rock seeks its depth,

And the water, its flow,

Deep in the current of life

Irresistibly,

Worse than the need to pee,

Oh Nobly Born. 

 

Once your starving soul

Begins to yearn for life,

You will defer your return,

Review impatiently

Interchangeable conceptions

For worthy rebirth

Into this world.

 

Oh Nobly Born!

Seek the unmistakable psychic beacons

Of Mary's Immaculate Conception

And of Christ’s Resurrection!

 

Heavy runway beacons,

Flare-strobed at both ends,

In a lifeless landscape,

Furtive couplings and dismal deaths,

Otherwise mournful, carnal and gray.

 

Ignore the many tiny tidal tugs

Of Karma, Familiarity, Desire and Fear

That will mislead you to seek rebirth

In a mortal infant,

A familiar setting,

Among your familiars,

And back onto the Wheel of Desire and Death.

 

Oh Nobly Born!

Abandon your family,

Your beloved friends,

Your many homelands,

And all your possessions.

Take up His cross instead.

 

Be ye born again onto His Spirit,

As into this vibrant flesh.

 

Recall His many parables:

They make perfect sense in this context,

And none in any other.

 

Grasp His lifeline,

Relive His lifetime,

That sacred Life

You could have led 

Had you held true faith.

 

But God has mercy,

Even unto the merciless

Even unto evil.

Even unto you,

Oh Nobly Born.

 

Review and repent

Your irredeemable sins

In the perfect light

Of His Life and Agony.

 

Oh Nobly Born!

How you will wish

You had obeyed God to the letter

And submitted to Him wholly—

So cruelly will your conscience

Torment you.

 

Your recall of many self-betrayals

Will last His whole Lifetime.

For thirty and some long years,

Every sin you committed

You will repent a hundredfold.

Every good deed,

A meager balm

For your sin-flayed soul.

 

Your sins will rouse you

To speak His Words in true faith

And see the world through His shining eyes

With divine clarity,

The beam finally removed from your eye.

 

Be brave

When they betray and crucify you.

Wear His crown of thorns,

Grateful for this painful distraction

From your unworthiness.

 

Oh Nobly Born.

Your pain is almost over.

And His mercy

Might even spare you

From that which must follow

For Him.

 

His daylong Agony

Will seem to you the last twinge

Of your endless torment.

His Calvary, climbing Golgotha,

The last, faltering steps

Of your ascent to Heaven. 

 

No more rebirths for you

On the Wheel of Desire and Death.

 

Then you may travel with Him

Direct to Heaven,

That very afternoon,

You and the repentant thief, Dismas.

 

There, you will find God

Awaiting you:

His only Son

And His companions,

Welcome prodigies.

 

And rejoin those

Who’ve flung themselves

From the Wheel of Desire and Death,

And taken up His Cross instead.

 

He promised to keep

This path is open for us,

His children.

 

Where you will rejoin your familiars,

Oh Nobly Born.

Sooner or later,

After one less death,

One more or many,

They will follow or precede you

Along this path.

 

Do not trouble yourself

With considerations

Of space and time,

Of before and after,

Of singularity and multiplicity,

And which soul belongs to which body.

 

The weakness of your faith

Blinds you to the fact

That you might pluck out your eyeball

Or chop off your arm,

Should they offend you,

Without a care,

So little do those things matter

In the make-believe that is your life

That seems vital to you.

 

You cannot fathom

Real matters of this Earth

In the light of Truth,

Much less those of Spirit.

 

Have but a little more faith,

Just a shred of hope,

Oh Nobly Born,

And you will be Saved.

  

No one can take this from you,

No one can talk you down,

Or extract it from you,

Neither by force,

By sentiment

Nor by persuasion.

Tell them anything they want to hear,

It will not matter.

 

You will die in any case

And thus be

Perfectly, miraculously and absolutely free

To choose Paradise,

Or to climb back

Upon the Wheel.

 

Indeed, you might choose to come back

Or might be asked to, nicely,

Help your brethren find the way,

Bring more lost children

Into the arms of God,

Oh Bodhisattva.

 

And you could yearn for another return,

To the good old days of desire and ignorance:

Another lesson,

A chance to do it the hard way;

Or merely cringe

Before Christ's fated Agony and yours,

Or your unworthiness for such an honor;

And submit once again

To the Wheel.

 

You are perfectly free to choose,

 Oh Nobly Born.

 

Great the Father,

Great the Son

And the Holy Spirit,

Our Comforter

That Jesus promised us.

 

For it is through Them

That all are Saved

Who choose to be,

Who look and see,

Who listen and hear.

 

Fear nothing, any longer,

Oh Nobly Born.

Everyone must die,

And die again, without end,

Until we are reborn and saved,

As soon as we choose to be,

We, the ready,

As promised.

 

(The priests have left the room…)

Matthew 6-9, repeat alone…

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