Francis and the Birds, by Denise Rogers

Legend of St. Francis: Sermon to the Birds, by Giotto (Italy) 1297-1299

​Francis and the Birds
 
He fed them all: the crotchety geese,
the pushy hens, partridges
with their topknots.
Waddling plovers gorged on
gestating grain
and swallows and sparrows
stopped squabbling
over breadcrumbs.
 
They listened to him
for it seemed unkind not to,
though of his preaching, 
they understood not one word.
He seemed not to mind,
since they were like most folk,
though they did not avoid him
when he came around. 
 
His consolations reminded the birds
of their own songs,
the assent of his coos,
chiding clucks and trrwhits.
His caws needed practice,
and his cheeps were too high,
but at least, they admitted,
he avoided those silly honks.
 
Patiently they brought him along, 
attending thoughtfully,
and replying softly in kind.
 
For the air around him was gold,
and this was the way
they knew him for one of their own.
It shimmered as it did
as they dipped and looped,
glided and swooped
and even waddled
on warm afternoons.
 
They masked their disappointments
on the hours he wasted on men,
who didn’t understand a word
of the language of motion,
something even the trees
had a handle on, deaf 
as they were to the birds.
 
See here, in this image,
how the cypress leans towards him,
eager to offer him some gentle advice?
What do you think it would be
to that small dark man, wandering
the hills cradling sparrows in his palms?

Denise Rogers
​
Denise Rogers teaches at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. She is an associate editor of Mockingheart Review. Her poems, reviews, and interviews have appeared in Louisiana Literature, Mockingheart Review, Alaska Quarterly Review, The Texas Poetry Review, Ekphrasis and others. Her book, The Scholar's Daughter, is published by Louisiana Literature Press.