Ask Not for Holy Explanation

Years ago, walking the streets of Assisi
I followed footsteps of St. Francis,
Prayed in places where he prayed,
Picked flowers in the same fields.

I did not see him in any vision—
No voices heard within the silence,
No dreams that urged me closer,
No intervention that came as blessing.

I still believe in heaven—
Here surrounding, patient, loving presence….
Some say that when you love the world
You can hear music in the wind.

If you’ve not seen something moving
When you glimpse the Whole,
Do not ask for holy explanation.
Just love the stillness of unknowing.

Tonight, sitting in peaceful contemplation
I’m grateful for Francis now in Rome.
He knows vital truth that without mercy,
No song of Earth fully sounds its worth.

Suddenly I feel a twitch, blink three times—
Think perhaps I see glimmering web
Intentionally cast over Earth.
Now I can let go and welcome sleep.

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