These are the words of Gregory, a Georgia boy, in the years of Saint
Louis IX, two years before the end of the academy, having received
nothing but the grace of God.
A fierce storm raged upon the land.
For three nights and for four,
the light of the sky cracked like the taskmaster's whip,
and the son of perdition whispered into my ear as I slept,
till daylight when a column of cloud swept in on a wind,
and caused the waters to subside.
For three nights and for four,
until at last my accuser tired in the early hours of the morning,
and I passed over the threshold to receive my daily bread.
But my accuser would not go in himself,
for it would be a defilement.
I felt the sting of sorrow without repentance.
The turning by tears but a foolish act,
a hook by which one is dragged upon the shore,
and fed to jackals.
But the turning by the mind a gift,
for it does not come and go,
like the waters of the wadi.
The affections are fleeting,
arguments are forgotten,
but the inner self is dense.
As John the Forerunner saith,
Change your mind, for the kingdom is at hand.
So the second great purgation began.
And a column of fire arrived,
and consumed the whispers.
It was then that I knew the calmness of joy,
made plain in my smirk,
day and night.
Then the accuser's rhetoric came again,
From where is my help to come?
And memory played the flute,
so I danced.
What is a son of man that God is mindful of him?
Come, let us reason together,
and speak with God.
Here you whisper nothingness,
glossing over falsehoods like a child.
But now I am watchful in the night,
I wish to reason with God,
and find your vain remedies to be a broken reed.
So I repaired my harp's reed,
and blew and drew, saying,
Hear, I will make melody to the Lord.
Guide my right hand to the mallet,
and drive it through my mind,
piercing the inner being.
And it lay still, shattered,
till at last what was left arose,
having been harvested,
it rose like the sun in its might.
I recalled the waters made calm,
my own adoption,
and at last slept soundly under the shadow of the wing.
And being in a desert,
I determined to take nothing but water,
if I should want life.
And a calmness was about my soul,
and imagination played within the mind
and reason returned as a lost sheep,
I was whole in accordance to the wind of the Spirit,
and my mind's eye was turned towards the Lord.
It shone upon the waters of the wadi,
light refracting like birds of the royal courts,
shining like a lampstand upon the ephod.
And at once it was clear,
that which made me whole,
was also a breastplate to my being.
And there was evening and morning, the second day.
A fierce storm raged upon the land.
For three nights and for four,
the light of the sky cracked like the taskmaster's whip,
and the son of perdition whispered into my ear as I slept,
till daylight when a column of cloud swept in on a wind,
and caused the waters to subside.
For three nights and for four,
until at last my accuser tired in the early hours of the morning,
and I passed over the threshold to receive my daily bread.
But my accuser would not go in himself,
for it would be a defilement.
I felt the sting of sorrow without repentance.
The turning by tears but a foolish act,
a hook by which one is dragged upon the shore,
and fed to jackals.
But the turning by the mind a gift,
for it does not come and go,
like the waters of the wadi.
The affections are fleeting,
arguments are forgotten,
but the inner self is dense.
As John the Forerunner saith,
Change your mind, for the kingdom is at hand.
So the second great purgation began.
And a column of fire arrived,
and consumed the whispers.
It was then that I knew the calmness of joy,
made plain in my smirk,
day and night.
Then the accuser's rhetoric came again,
From where is my help to come?
And memory played the flute,
so I danced.
What is a son of man that God is mindful of him?
Come, let us reason together,
and speak with God.
Here you whisper nothingness,
glossing over falsehoods like a child.
But now I am watchful in the night,
I wish to reason with God,
and find your vain remedies to be a broken reed.
So I repaired my harp's reed,
and blew and drew, saying,
Hear, I will make melody to the Lord.
Guide my right hand to the mallet,
and drive it through my mind,
piercing the inner being.
And it lay still, shattered,
till at last what was left arose,
having been harvested,
it rose like the sun in its might.
I recalled the waters made calm,
my own adoption,
and at last slept soundly under the shadow of the wing.
And being in a desert,
I determined to take nothing but water,
if I should want life.
And a calmness was about my soul,
and imagination played within the mind
and reason returned as a lost sheep,
I was whole in accordance to the wind of the Spirit,
and my mind's eye was turned towards the Lord.
It shone upon the waters of the wadi,
light refracting like birds of the royal courts,
shining like a lampstand upon the ephod.
And at once it was clear,
that which made me whole,
was also a breastplate to my being.
And there was evening and morning, the second day.
