- 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 own 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, with no valid spiritual shield whatsoever, and to everyone who must die one more time before they can 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 easy, die 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’ve bailed out from a million billion bodies

Before this one,

In billions of death agonies.

Many, many lifetimes

Full of fear, pain and anxiety

Made up your destiny

Until this day.

 

You are free from all that now.

 

After you’ve freed yourself

From this mortal shell,

Like a pilot bailing out from his burning plane,

Your discarnate, drifting soul

Will cruise through space and time

Until you tire of its hard vacuum,

Dusty silence and lifeless drudgery.

 

You may revisit

All the stars in heaven,

Like a jaded old tourist,

And watch universes

Take birth, flare out and die,

Incredibly beautiful.

Or listen to sweet birdsong all day long,

And simply watch the flowers grow,

From the rising to the setting of the sun.

 

You may encounter

Beasts, Angels and Daemons

Echoing your own

Desires, Hopes and Fears,

Whom you may choose

To touch and be touched by,

For good or ill.

 

You may remain on Earth,

Wander its homes and fields,

Haunt familiar places and strange,

Revisit old children 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 again,

More and more urgently,

For another carnal life.

 

You will fall back into life,

Free fall backward into life,

As a rock would seek its depth,

And the water its flow,

Down into the current of life

Irresistibly,

Oh Nobly Born. 

 

Once your famished soul

Begins to yearn for life,

You will defer your return a little while longer,

Reviewing impatiently

Many interchangeable conceptions

For a worthwhile rebirth

Into this world.

 

Oh Nobly Born!

Seek out the unmistakable psychic beacons

Of Mary's Immaculate Conception

And Christ’s Rising from the Dead!

A heavy runway beacon,

Flare-strobed at both ends,

In a dead landscape of furtive couplings

And dismal deaths

Otherwise mournful, carnal and gray.

 

Ignore those many tiny tidal tugs

Of Karma, Familiarity, Desire and Fear

That will mislead you to seek rebirth

In a mortal infant,

In 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 you were born into this failing flesh.

 

Recall His many parables:

They make perfect sense in this context,

And none whatsoever in any other.

 

Grasp His lifeline,

Relive His lifetime,

That sacred Life

You could have led yourself

Had you held true faith.

 

But God is merciful,

Even unto the ungrateful

And unto evil.

Even unto you,

Oh Nobly Born.

 

Review and repent

Your many unredeemable sins

In the perfect light

Of His Life and Agony.

 

Oh Nobly Born!

How you will wish

You’d obeyed God absolutely

And submitted to Him completely—

So bitterly will your conscience

Scourge and torment you.

 

Your recollection of bitter self-betrayals

Will last throughout His Lifetime.

For thirty long years,

Every sin you committed

You will repent a hundredfold.

Every good deed

Will be a weak balm

To your miserable, sin-flayed soul.

 

Your many sins will motivate you

To speak His Words with the utmost sincerity

And see the world through His shining eyes

With godlike clarity,

Now you’ve removed the beam

From your own eye.

 

Be brave

When they come betray and crucify you.

Wear His crown of thorns,

Grateful for its painful distraction

From your absolute unworthiness.

 

Oh Nobly Born.

Your suffering is almost over.

 

His daylong Agony

Will seem to you the last twinge

Of your infinite pain.

His Calvary climb up Golgotha,

The last faltering footsteps

Of your raw ascent to Heaven. 

 

No more rebirths for you

Onto the Wheel of Desire and Death.

 

Then you may go with Him

Direct to Heaven,

That very afternoon,

You and the repentant thief, Dismas.

 

There you will find God

Awaiting you both:

His only Son

And you, His companions

Equally prodigal,

Equally welcome.

 

You will rejoin all those

Who’ve hurled themselves from

The Wheel of Desire and Death,

And taken up His Cross instead.

 

He promised to keep

This path is open for all of us,

His children.

 

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 holy path.

 

Do not trouble yourself

With considerations

Of space and time,

Of before and after,

Of singularity and multiplicity,

Of which soul belongs to which body.

 

Your faithlessness

Blinds you to the fact

That you may pluck out your own eyeball

And 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

Matters of this Earth

In the light of Truth,

Much less matters of Spirit.

 

Have only a little more faith,

Just a shred of hope,

Oh Nobly Born,

And you will be Saved.

 

Great is the Father,

Great the Son

And Great 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.

 

No one can take this from you,

No one can talk you down,

Or extract it from you,

Either by force,

By sentiment

Or persuasion.

 

You’d already be dead and thus

Perfectly, miraculously and absolutely free

To choose Paradise,

Or climb back

Upon the Wheel of Desire and Death.

 

Indeed, you might choose to come back

Or might be asked to, nicely,

To help your brethren find the right path,

Bring more lost children into the arms of God,

Oh Bodhisattva.

 

And you could yearn for another swing at bat,

At the good old days of desire and ignorance,

Another lesson,

Another chance to do it right 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.

 

Fear nothing, any longer,

Oh Nobly Born.

For even though everyone dies,

And dies again, endlessly,

We are all reborn and saved,

The minute we choose to be,

We who are ready,

As promised.

 

Matthew 6-5, repeat alone…

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