St. Joan's Day

Today marks the 590th anniversary of the murder of my patron saint, Jehanne of Domrémy. No body lies a-moldering in the grave -- she was burned at the stake and then cremated twice more to ensure nothing would be left of her -- but she lives today, a resurrected being, and her soul goes marching on.

This poem was written by my sister Kat, who has graciously given me permission to publish it here. I had originally planned to quote it as part of a much longer post I am working on, but that is a post for another day, and the poem is a poem for today.

They marched to the fire with a drum roll and battle-cries

They mobbed through the courtyard with passionate hate

They tied to the stake a soldier-maiden

And lighted the flames to purge heresy-taint

 

They shouted huzzah! as the pyre leapt upward

They tossed up their caps to the conquering flame

They toasted their mess-mates for burning a maiden

And ridding the earth of a scourge and a stain

 

They marched off in glory, content with their doing

They knew that a fire leaves nothing behind

They left her in cinders, and smoldering ashes

And wended their way with a bright, fearless mind

 

But they found, to their fury, she had somewhat escaped them

They knew not at first, but they finally learnt

Her heart was on fire with vision already

And fire is the one thing that cannot be burnt

Those who watched Joan burn report seeing a dove rise phoenix-like from the flames -- conveying, in the symbolic language of the prophets, the message, "This is my beloved daughter, in whom I am well pleased, in whom I have glorified my name."

There are heavy rains and flooding in Taiwan today, forecast to continue for a week, marking the end of the longest and most serious drought in many decades. The timing of these things is never just a coincidence.