WHEN A ST. FRANCIS
These fields are rich with whisper - they sway
and they roll with the breeze. I can hear
(shh! almost) what they are saying; yet I
know it is the language of birds, not mine.
Nonetheless : something rings a true bell;
something comes as an understanding. As
I do not need the translator for the sunlight
or the rain, so too I can nudge a meaning
from these oh so silent words.