saints tell boymen

put down rifles

pick up lilies

*

we need a Francis

to tame the rages

of wolfish hearts

*

kissing the hillside

to whitest laughter

queen anne's lace

*

saying his beads

against the world's agony

one quiet friar

*

wisdom to know

that lighting a candle

is all i can do

*

you are all-beautiful
my cherished ones
pulseless under rubble

*

feet of the dead
tears of the living
terrible anointing

*

autumn launches
her harmless mimicry
of fire        of blood

*

shouters of godstrife
whose voice will sing you
canticles of peace

*

on the sun-seared land
of creeds that bleed
shower love's fierce rain

*

gift I give myself

writing to Elena whose

every word is peace

*

wind this time of year

stiff and black as the gnarled bark

of an old bald tree

*

hate surrenders, lies

prostrate at the feet of Love

kisses them and weeps