Drops of Color
(A Pilgrimage Journal Entry/Camino St. Francis September 2019)
The Poor Man~~~
the beggar man from Assisi—
is that you?
The winds whispered through the trees—
the leaves clapped their hands.
“ALL Praise and Glory” sang through
a tiny pink flower on the side of
Yes, now I know it is You.
A painted blue sky…a picturesque sea
washing itself above my head—
while the sun holds it center and
I feel myself revolving with you
Brother Francis, poor man,
beggar man~~~Lover of Creation.
Walking toward Assisi
the dust rises like incense with my
Small stones, large stones, lie in the
valley…an uncharted path giving way
to mountains dipped in soft clouds.
You’re near poor man, beggar man~~~
the Lord’s Troubadour.
You sang creation’s love song
and Praised creation’s Lord.
Your story Blessed Francis
Sister Death came for you~~~
You welcomed her.
You’re here poor man,
beggar man from Assisi.
The Christ in You
is the Moon’s Fullness…
the Light, the Darkness—
How powerful ‘we’ SEE more clearly
in the dark solitude of
when we view only a small speck of
our shadow—that IS the True Self.
Does the False self come out in the Light?
Is it the illusion we pretend to be?
Wish to be? Hope to be?
You lived the journey simply—
it was yours.
I live mine
through your words.
“Who am I? Who are you, Lord?”
Some days, I feel further from the discovery
of the answer to these questions
AND my being “Rejoices.”
In some ways, my prayer so small—
Pray, “I NEVER know.”
So like you
beggar man from Assisi…
I walk on like you till
Sister Death takes my hand.
Francis, One day I’ll walk beside
you in the stars…
For now…I’ll simply bow
in Holy Wonder.
Feast Of Francis —October 4th