The Sisters of St. Francis of Philadelphia

Cypress
swaying softly in
God's gentle breath . . .
their summer dance
of praise. . .

Stretching arms aloft
in praise. . .
aching for the God
whose song is
Love ...

Warmed. . .
caressed
by gentle rays of summer sun,
tender stroking of a
Gentle God . . .

Etched like ebony
against an evening sky
waiting
for the mantle-wrap of
night. . .

Whispering
to a star-filled night,
telling secrets of the
Gentle God
of day.