The Pilgrim Road 33,34,35,36,37,38,39 Poem by David McLansky

Doctoring the Evidence (33)

The Deacon had paid the prison guard

To sing a song while in the yard, 

A silly song that made no sense

That he hoped would have a consequence; 

The Deacon had conveyed the words

Through a monk which made a third; 

But the prison guard had a garbled voice, 

This was the Deacon's song of choice: 


'Mary was the Devil's Dam

The Devil's Dam, the Devil's Dam, 

Mary was the Devil's Dam, 

She blessed his cloven toe.'


But the song the Deacon tried to foist

Was twisted in the garbled voice:

'Mary had a little lamb, 

Little lamb, little lamb,
Mary had a little lamb, 

His fleece was white as snow.'


And so when the child was asked to sing, 

That was the child's sweet offering.


Interview with Satan (34)

The prosecutor was not dismayed, 

He knew many tricks in his trade, 

He was a man, she was a child, 

Innocence is no match for guile; 

He gave his lower lip a tug, 

And asked, 'Is your savior Beezulbub? 

Or do you worship him as Satan? 

Answer Demon, we all are waiting.'

'I don't know them, ' said the child, 

Who looked at the Deacon with a smile, 

'You have a funny froggy face: '

Laughter broke throughout the place; 

'Then who is your Savior, Demon Child? '

The Deacon asked, being riled; 

'My Lord and Savior is Jesus Christ, 

And for my sins He gave His life...'

'And what are your sins? ' asked the Deacon, 

Interrupting as she was speaking; 

'I pulled my sisters Maggie's hair 

When she refused to give me my full share

Of the apple tart Momma baked, 

I pray my soul the Lord to take.'

The Deacon hissed, his soul irate,
He raised his voice, his voice did shake,
'Come, come, foul Demon, confess your crime; 

Was God half-human or half-divine; 

Did Jesus who died on the cross

Feel the pain of human loss, 

Or was His flesh but of the Spirit? 

Give us your wisdom, we do not fear it.'



Reasoning with Satan (35)

The little girl stood mute, confused, 

The Deacon suspected this a ruse, 

'I'll say it so you understand, 

Was Jesus Christ a God or man? '

'Jesus Christ was once a was, '

In the Courtroom there was a buzz, 

'Now Jesus Christ is an is, 

He died so that we all may live.'

The Deacon shook his mocking head, 

'So now you say that Christ is dead! '
'Oh, you just told a dirty lie, 

May Jesus strike you from the sky! '

The courtroom tittered with muted laughter, 

Some looked up into the rafters, 

'The Devil's power is to beguile, 

She answers not as a child; 

She answers with a subtle mind; 

Beware the Devil lurks behind; 

She has the power to bewitch; 

Ipso facto she is a witch.'

The Judge looked down and began to fidget, 

'Do you say this ipsit dixit? 

For if you do I'm not convinced;
The child just speaks mere commonsense.'



Case Conference (36)

'I liken it to Gethsemane, ' 

Said the Judge in the lane;

'My garden is my only sin, 

Be so good as to walk within.'

With the Deacon, he walked about, 

In measured steps, he was quite stout, 

Pausing at his favorite flowers, 

Noting their medicinal powers.

'The asphodelus is for regret, 

The pheasant's eye helps me forget, 

The rosemary gives me healing balm

The virginica helps keep me calm.

'I'm afraid to say your case is weak, 

I didn't think the girl would speak, 

Who would have thought this little peasant

Would have been so charming and so pleasant? 

The arum vulgare gives you strength, '

And here the churchman paused at length, 

'Let's not let this thing get out of hand, 

Involve the Archbishop or Metropolitan; 

We want the proof to be plain as day, 

They should convict themselves by what they say; 

Really I'm surprised at you, 

Confounded by these bumpkins, too! '



In the Garden of Gethsemane (37)

'I propose we merge their trials, '

The Deacon said with leering guile, 

'They know not enough not to speak, 

The Pilgrim has a martyr's streak; 

We'll say that both of them connive

To blasphemy and to deny

The Divinity of Jesus Christ; '

Said the Judge, 'That's sage advice.'

They continued down the garden path, 

They watched two sparrows at their bath, 

On a fluted ancient stone, 

Splashing as if all alone; 

'Should we have the Pilgrim stripped, 

Flogged and beaten with a whip, 

Lashed and scourged, beaten down, 

Then paraded through the town? '

'You'd make him walk 'The Path of Sorrows? '

We'll think of this on the morrow, 

Let's not make of him a Christian martyr, 

He has his bent and foolish ardor; 

Let them ascend their own bonfire

By their own efforts as we desire; 

Let their quest for martyrdom

Proceed as if it naturally come.'



A Compromise (38)

The Judge looked pensive at the sky, 

He checked his plants, they all seemed dry; 

He blessed his plants in Gesthemane, 

And asked his aide to pray for rain.

'And by the way, by and by, 

Here's one thing else you should try: 

Lets ask them both to make a deal, 

Once they confess, there's no Appeal; 

Let them confess to 'lack of faith, '

A venial sin in the waif; 

As to the Pilgrim, an act of contrition, 

We'll send him on a Holy Mission: 

Far away, a distant span, 

We'll send him to the Holy Land

To do penance at Ste. Catherine's Shrine, 

That will take him quite some time; 

A doubter bears a heavy load

And may get lost along the road; ... 

You'd prefer to break him on her wheel; 

Confession and there's no Appeal! '



Ex Parte (39)

The Deacon smiled at Zechariah

Though in his eyes there burned such fire; 

'It such a small, a minor concession

That's remedied by contrite confession; '

And as he spoke he licked his lips, 

Then he rubbed his finger tips, 

'Well, I really don't have all day; 

As to my proposal, what do you say? '

The Pilgrim smiled then in his turn, 

'When will Evil ever learn, 

It is by slow degrees we burn.'

The Deacon looked annoyed and stern;
'You want me to confess a lie

Upon Our Savior who chose to die

Then admit He was the Son of God

To those on whom His neck would trod? 

Against the Spirit you commit sedition, 

As the Church you forget your mission: 

To husband to the good in men, 

Not foster rot, decay, and sin.'

The Deacon looked on him with scorn, 

'You dare to lecture one high born? 

What are you, but a vagrant, 

Without a pulpit and unlearnt; 

You dare to teach morals to me, 

An Officer of the Holy See? 

God pre-anoints those who've risen, '

The Deacon sneered with such derision.