Marionettes

Once upon a time the Lord and the Lady came from the land of the gods to see how the humans were getting along in London town. They disguised themselves as a young man and woman and strolled about the cobbled streets. They had quite a lark, eating pastries and wearing fine clothing.

They came to the outdoor market, where hundreds of merchants were selling their wares: lush vegitables and savory pies, cloth from the Orient, spices and dyes. They came upon the stall of a craftsman. This man had put the simple joy of his spirit into the creation of two beautiful wooden dolls. He did it just for the hell of it, because he wanted to sing the beauty of human form into the wood and make a toy children would love. He had hinged the joints of the dolls at shoulder, hip, knee and elbow so their limbs moved. He'd given them wrists and ankles as well and also allowed them to bend at the waist. He had painted their merry faces and clothed them in bright and colorful attire.

The Lord and Lady were so delighted by the dolls that they dropped their human form immediately and entered the wooden creations. Ah, how fine it was to move the wood that had already been infused with joy. The Lady became the female doll and the Lord the male. In this shape they laughed. Their brightly colored clothing and their jolly faces inspired them to delighted exuberence. They danced and cavorted. People gathered from all across the market to watch.

After awhile, tiring of this game, the dieties left their wooden forms and became the young man and woman once again, back on the edge of the crowd where no one could see them. They continued on their way through the market.

The craftsman was thunderstruck. First his wooden dolls were animated, then they were still again. The people were joyful and then disappointed. People drifted back to their own stalls or over to other delightful sights at the market.

The dollmaker, though, closed his eyes and savored the moments his craft had come to life. He made strings for the dolls, attaching them by little metal loops to hands and feet. Tying the other ends of the strings to his fingers, he could make his creations move about once again. It was a jerky comical dance, especially compared to the dance of the Lord and Lady, which had, of course, been perfect. But it was a joyful dance nonetheless, and it delighted the children. Thus did we learn to make marionettes.

When we work with clay and paint, cloth and wood to invest our crafts with the exuberance of our spirits, we invite God in all God's forms to come and dance. Such moments of connection with the deities are precious and not oft repeated. They inspire us to joyful relationship. They inspire us to make something new.