Love’s Lunatic


How I would have loved You
Had I seen You there
Preaching to the birds
Uttering words of love
Kissing the leper

How I would have crept
Through the sun-flowered meadow
Just to catch Your shadow
On an Umbrian afternoon

How I would have followed You there
Soul laid bare
Had You cut my hair
Just like Clare…
My Love, my Poverello

You meet me
in your nakedness,
like a lily of the field.

In soft-feathered humility,
you sing, hop, fly,
then perch in my soul.

The wildness of Love
dances in your eyes,
The love of wildness lights your smile.

Passion’s Patron.
Love’s Lunatic.
God’s Clown.

Your holy foolishness
floods my feeble reason,
washes me,

Wraps me
in Lady Poverty’s
rough-hewn robes.

All the world’s gold
cannot compare
with the peace of simplicity,

And the presence
of the Very Lowly…
who meets me here.

By Cheryl Anne