Francis Neath the Bitter Tree

Francis,
I first saw you
in my little
Book of Saints
pictured beneath the
cross of your dying Lord.
Oh, this was long
before I knew you
graced the bird baths
and fountains
of every yard and
public place
as the Holy Fool.
And this was long
before I saw you
cradle the tiny Child
in your arms,
or tame the
snarling grey wolf-
long before I knew you
as the veritable tree
for your precious
winged sisters
and animals of every
pattern and stripe.
I first saw you
neath the bitter tree
locked in embrace
with the crucified God
who bent down
for your tender comfort
and most gentle
love.
Later I was told
you stretched your
scarcely visible frame
to cover even the hopeless
and the lepers
of your day.
And now I see,
now I know why
He flew to La Verna
wrapt in resurrected wings
to transfigure,
to share the glory,
with the one
who had spared himself
none of the suffering.

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This page is managed by Fr. Raymond A. Bucko, S.J. of the Department of Sociology and Anthropology at Creighton University. E-Mail: bucko@creighton.edu Page Last Updated: December 1, 2001

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