Crime of Mars - The Poppet Doll (11 of 12)

The Poppet Doll

 

The Ninth Rhyme of Jean Ami

 

I once abused

A common man,

 

A creature that I know,

 

And beat him till

The blood

 I shed

 

Caused heaven’s tears to flow

 

He did not seek my grace at all -

Indeed, he cursed my name

 

So, every day

I broke his bones

And battered him

The same

 

For he was guilty

Of the deeds

 

That every man has done

And yet denied that what we lost

Was what the devil won

 

And baser still,

He falsely lived,

And vainly he would lie

About the nature of his heart,

 

 

And look me in the eye!

 

These days did end

For both of us beneath

 

An olive tree

 

When I discovered

That this man

 

Was not a man,

 

But me!

 

I saw him burning in a flame,

A flame that made it seem

 

As if he were a poppet doll

That mocked me in a dream!

 

PART II

 

(The Chastisement of Flesh)

 

And so, I was compelled to live

Within my naked form �"

 

And I was like a helpless lamb

That bleats beneath a storm

 

 I shivered in an icy gloom

And shuddered in my sleep,

 

For I had wandered

From the flock

 

Into the dark

And deep!

 

I took no peace

In daylight’s hymn,

No comfort I could take,

 

As I was fettered by my fear 

And tethered to its stake

I did not know

What keys I held -

 

 I only saw the lock,

 

And in my dullness

 

Wept alone

 

Or to the shadows talked!

 

These days did end

Upon a rack beneath

 

An olive tree,

 

When I discovered that my flesh

Was but a curse, not me

 

I saw it burning in a flame -

A flame that made it seem,

 

As if I suffered all for naught,

For flesh was but a dream

 

 

PART III

 

(The Blessing of St. Paul)

 

And now, I am

A beast no more

And now, I see a soul

 

That gathers

What is disparate

Into a sacred whole

 

I see it on the roads I walk,

The places where I stay -

 

It hallows like the goodly light

In which the angels pray

 

For penitence

Inspires the flight

Of that supernal grace

 

That elevates

The common man

Above his time and place!

 

It flutters like a temple dove

That in the sunlight

 

Gleams

 

Upon the brow

Of him who kneels

And, in his beauty, beams!

 

These days were meant

To claim a soul beneath

 

An olive tree,

 

And I discovered

 

That the Christ

 

Was surely claiming me

 

Oh, I was chastened in a flame,

A flame that made it seem

 

As if I were a child of God

 

And not a poppet’s dream.

 

-U-

 

Herein Lay My Sin,

 

That I Sought Pleasures, Honors, and Truths,

 Not in Him, but in His Creatures �" And I Fell

Thereby into Sorrows, Troubles, and Errors.

 

-St. Augustine of Hippo

 

Thoughts of Camille Du Monde: Entry Eleven

 

(Those Who Seek Forgiveness Must Repent)

 

For many years, our Church regarded the passion of the flagellant to be a reasonable display of penance, for though the whipping might be a vain conceit too madly done, a lesson was, in fact, laid out and learned by many.[9]  Now, times have changed. But Ami describes a thing more inward and quite private, too much like our Lord’s anguish on the night of his betrayal, which to me is a kind of sacrilege that mimics God. But who can say? Yet this I know or trust to be the truth:

 

All confessions made and penance done

Are acts performed in pious masquerade.

 

No man can be complete in what he knows about himself,

Nor can the truth find light in anything he says.

 

He is like a troubadour who sings

His empty platitudes to a sleepy king

Who excuses him in a drone of snores.

 

Yet those who seek forgiveness must repent.

 

For even as God yawns at our imperfect prayers,

His grace provides a consummate absolution �"

Never rendered grudgingly or in half-spirit,

But in full measure and often in reward.

 

Did Jean Ami receive that special blessing?

It seems he did, and I am happy for him,

For in witnessing grace, I am as blessed

As him for whom it was intended.

 

God’s love is like an arrow that finds its mark �"

 

It sticks where it is intended,

 

But so great is its force

That it is felt in every place nearby

And perhaps far beyond what can be seen.

 

What soldier shows not a better sign of courage,

When he beholds that virtue shining in another?

 

Or more generally, what good man can witness grace

And not feel compelled to do some good himself?

 

 

[9] According to Encyclopedia Britannica, Paris may have wandered beyond the bounds of poetic license here. Although it is possible that some manifestation of flagellantism occurred during the time of the events he describes, its first recorded incident took place in Perugia in 1259, with its practice reaching its height during the days of the Black Death in 1349. Moreover, it is probably accurate to say that the Church tolerated this extremist movement more than it regarded it as a legitimate vehicle for the expression of penance. Indeed, the Church eventually identified the movement as heresy, and Pope Clement VI instructed Church leaders to suppress it. Several flagellants were burned alive to demonstrate the Holy See’s resolve on the issue.