Poetry

Judgement 6

“The fool has hope when things are at their worst;

The homeless tramp is a prince in God’s kingdom

Because his hope in life makes him at least

A noble in the kingdom that is to come.

He hopes. He knows that things are for the best.

The noble hierarchy is not the same

In this world as the next.” The Divine Maid

Encouraged me like this, then I replied:

“Because I am a simple minded fool

Who put the world aside, and in his heart,

Expected and desired the impossible

In hope though the whole world had fallen apart,

You helped me travel? That’s why after all

I came this far?” And she: “You’ve made a start.

You followed Christ, your faith was in my Son.

And now, you must become him, and move on.”

So I said: “How can I become like God?”

And she: “Through hope, and something yet secret.

What is my son? Why did he walk abroad?

Go to the doorway there, and that big gate.”

A bit reluctant, looking back, I did.

To leave that chamber and make my way out

I had to pass between those men in white

Saints Constantine and Anthony the Great.

The first thing that we do when we are born

And feel the world around us is, we cry.

Sometimes a midwife takes the little one

And smacks it to awaken it fully

To make it breathe. When they choose a deacon

The Christians have to drag a man away

Toward the altar; if it were his choice

He would not volunteer for such duties.

Just so I felt as those two men held me,

And put the satchel on my back, with stones.

I will not say that I preferred to die

Than bear that weight; I have carried burdens

And you get used to them; but I do say

I wanted to sit down and rest at once.

Then that old Emperor, him born in York,

Removed a stone, and then began to talk.

“A dozen stages and a dozen weights.

They take one burden from you at each stage;

So look out for the people at the gates.

I heard you talking. It was all the rage

To make a fortune, be aristocrats

In Britain and to dominate the age.

Just as a poor man must resort to stealing

In order to survive, buying and selling

“Is where a rich man makes his last resort.

Don’t think I blame the English for expansion

And opening up of markets for their sport.

The impetus was money, and a mansion.

A title, dignity, to be at Court:

These were the simple ends and their intention.

The English rarely lived where they conquered;

A house is England was what they preferred.

“And all their income simply from Free Trade,

With force applied if anyone refused

To sell or buy. The whole world is agreed

Their trading posts must never be confused

With the evil empire of an evil breed.

When I observed them, I became amazed:

The hill station, great house, and the veranda,

The Christian chapel, all transferred to India.

“And that trade post along the Hudson River

Where the decorum of a London bank

Uncompromisingly lived on forever.”

While we were talking, that man of great rank

Escorted me outside and said: “However,

That empire lacked the true spirit, I think.”

He shook my hand, and I smelled the fresh air,

Outside, weighed down, it was too much to bear.

“Must I go on, now? Must I take this pack?

It weighs too much,” I said. And he: “Acquire

The spirit. It will give you what you lack.

When you are lacking hope, that is despair.

The Holy Spirit will straighten your back.”

The two men stood the other side the door.

I looked around, the environment was green

With plants and creatures I had never seen.

“What does it look like, how will I know it?”

Some fathers throw their newborns in a pool

To make the infant swim, for it can float.

Just so, they threw me out, burdened and dull,

And crushed and scared. I saw a blinding light

Which was inside my mind, and external:

And heard a voice say, and heard myself say:

“The Spirit is from God and also me.

“The Spirit is the eternal part of you

Which God made pure, and yet is not the same.

And if you chose to ignore and not to know

Then you are incomplete and bound to time,

And cut loose, freely lost, and doomed to die.”

I heard this and I saw, as in a dream:

I was both me and also saw myself.

I can assert, that to live life by half

Without the eternal God derived self-part

Is living hell, the lowest kind of rapture.

A man can bear physical pain and hurt

And not care, if he has not got a future.

If self is gone, the pain is infinite

Surpassing every other sort of torture.

But there, at that time, I had found the jointure:

The Spirit came, and made me a whole creature.

So what I saw was, a bright shining double,

Seen not with eyes, but with the mental eye.

Inside me, so to speak, a twin so subtle

That he was both myself and yet not I.

[Now I had meant to talk and take the trouble

To tell you what St Anthony had to say,

On light as packets, that they call photons

And how it is the exact same substance

As magnetism, and as radiation.

And how at faster waves and frequencies

It turns invisible. And our discussion

Traversed voltages, amps, resistances;

But this essential and deep information

Deserves another place and time than this.]

Now, I was taking steps with feet and mind

And will not fail to write out what happened.

I asked how physics could be relevant

When everything was being sold off cheap,

And he said: “After this Final Judgement,

The world will be renewed and built back up.”

I set off, then, with blessing from the saint,

I went slowly, often having to stop.

I was surprised to see the daylight fade

And slowly night fell; then I was afraid.

At first the frightening thing was all the noise.

There was a path which Anthony advised

But it went through the bush and dinosaurs

And other pre-historic sorts of beast.

I had to rest, and when I closed my eyes

A strange green demon with knees turned backward

And horns around its jagged pointed head

Seemed to intend that I should leave the road.

It was as if it were a part of me

And was familiar with my inward thoughts

To frighten me so I would lose my way.

Til I remembered that I had two parts

Disjoined as yet, one in eternity

And one down here, prey to such evil spirits.

I got up, walking at a faster pace

To make it to the next stage of the race.