The Annunciation of Francis

I did not come to him on bended knee 
clutching a stalk of lilies and a message from God,
dressed in a gown effulgent as fire.  

I came out of the darkness of earth 
from the place where the poor creatures wait-
the claws that walk upon the pebbled ocean floor

the four legged with their strong haunches 
and tremulous upright ears 
long tongues unrolled in devotion or fear

the winged things who wanted their own sermon
ringdoves and waterfowl 
even the vultures who put aside their carcass 

to sit in a circle and feed on his preaching 
silent as a gathering of saints.  
The loops that circled their necks, 

shackles laid across the canticle 
of their bones, were rent loose by his words 
till they too settled nearby like souls.

When he appeared to the brothers of the order 
as he darkened in death, I was there, 
signifier of the five wounds.

It was my luminous hand that held the glass 
to catch the thick venetian red
dribbling like wine from his side.


 

© Jan Lee Ande