How I would have loved You
Had I seen You there
Preaching to the birds
Uttering words of love
Kissing the leper
How I would have crept
Through the sun-flowered meadow
Just to catch Your shadow
On an Umbrian afternoon
How I would have followed You there
Soul laid bare
Had You cut my hair
Just like Clare…
My Love, my Poverello
You meet me
in your nakedness,
like a lily of the field.
Through the sun-flowered meadow
Just to catch Your shadow
On an Umbrian afternoon
How I would have followed You there
Soul laid bare
Had You cut my hair
Just like Clare…
My Love, my Poverello
You meet me
in your nakedness,
like a lily of the field.
In soft-feathered humility,…
you sing, hop, fly,
then perch in my soul.
The wildness of Love
dances in your eyes,
The love of wildness lights your smile.
Passion’s Patron.
Love’s Lunatic.
God’s Clown.
Your holy foolishness
floods my feeble reason,
washes me,
Wraps me
in Lady Poverty’s
rough-hewn robes.
All the world’s gold
cannot compare
with the peace of simplicity,
And the presence
of the Very Lowly…
who meets me here.
—
By Cheryl Anne
This is a very, very fine poem both in content and execution. Thank you so much. Have you been published?
I have been thinking a lot about Francis this week. I think that in your longing to have been there with him, to see “the wildness of Love” dancing in his eyes, there is a desire to follow at least something of his way. The call to rebuild the church with the same love that he had is there for us today. He got to work with stones at San Damiano and then God transfigured the work he was doing. I wonder what he wants us to do.
This is a beautiful expression of spiritual unity with St. Francis and the spirit of simplicity, humility, and love for all life that he embodied. A perfect tribute to him for his feast.