Sonnet for St. Francis
Though Francis bore the marks of Jesus’ pain,
he walked the roads in simple joy and danced.
He cast aside the robes of merchant gain,
embracing poverty as life enhanced.
A fearsome wolf at his request grew tame –
for animal and town a happy end.
He preached to birds and even dared to claim
that sun and moon were kin, and death a friend.
The Spirit urged him to rebuild the church:
both stones and preaching seemed a burden slight,
with soul and body yoked in eager search,
his life a guiding fire, a beacon bright.
The centuries have not eclipsed the sight
of this man, naked, singing dawn alight.
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So very beautiful!
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I love Francis and his contemporary colleague, Richard Rohr. Franciscan, Celtic, and Indigenous sources have profound wisdom that we need now.
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