Poetry 1

Friends

The journey began so long ago.

Senses tell us it’s seemingly so.

Wherever one is, in the midst of crowds

It’s You, one looks for, in the gaze of  an eye

Of friends that appear with a smile and a nod

“The signposts say clear, this is the way, 

a hand I can lend, some words I can say

Let’s press on together, day by day”.

Friends in a crowd.

Where hurrying, scurrying , milling about

In a seemingly randomly, blindingly way

Seems to be the disorder of the day.

True friends make it clear

That the light of their love,

In origin above

Will dispel any fright

Make right, any might

And let’s pray, end this night.

In that glorious sun rise

All Friends will Be

In the Light

Of the Love

That is Thee.

Francesco  (1986)

Clay Play

for God said
“Let there be light in the night”
And God made us clay
so in our play
we could work through the strife
we’ve come to call life
By true living we’ll see
that truly to Be
in the Light of the Sun
Where-when all is One
is the Birthright we seek
to fly out of this night
On wings fashioned of Love
given freely above, and below us we shed
passions, desires and dread
till letting go of clay
moving on in the play
taking on the Star Role
We’re made Whole.

Francesco (1990)

 

 

Angel Wings

Wherever You are, there the Light is.

And if it be your will to fall,

no matter the wherefores and whys

Countless Angels fall with you. 

Not as protectors to cushion some imagined doomsday flight,

but as companions honoured to go with you.

And so,

when you see the drunkard stumble and fall

don’t let out a curse, or fault find his way

but rather walk with him. 

And Angels will bless you and sing

Harmonizing intervals between your song  and Hymns

And the fall

Is but a pause

Within the gentle breeze

Of Angel Wings

and Flight.

Francesco (2000)

 

 

 

Wrestling with an Angel

Jacob wrestled with an angel.
This was not some lazy afternoon’s pastime
But a lifetime of encounters.
At first a slight breeze from this
Beings wings
then, as Jacob’s eyes turned beyond the blinders
of the world,
this angel rose from the mists of a vague,
half remembered Heaven
of Rays from which emanates
physical light.
What the story doesn’t say,
Out of kindness
Is that this angel so loved Jacob
That he taunted him
Day and night, night and day
Pulling at his heart
Picking at his liver
“do you love me, Jacob?
Do you love me?
Then prove it
Not to me
But to yourself”
Day and night, night and day
Till Jacob ran
Hear me, he ran
And hurled his life at this angel
And with all his might
Wholly desired that which he
Simply knew he lacked.
Well friend, what be your angel?
And what is your strategy
To wrest the truth of your life
Into your Heart.

Francesco (1992)