Pebble on the Tongue*

It may well be in the course of a traipse, even a pious pilgrimage, that a wild flower will trump St. Peter’s Basilica itself.

When I Returned From Rome

A bird took flight.
A flower in a field whistled at me as I passed.
I drank from a stream of clear water.
And at night, the sky untied her hair and
I fell asleep clutching a tress of God’s.

When I returned from Rome, all said,
“Tell us the great news,”
and with great excitement I did:

“A flower in a field whistled and at night,
the sky untied her hair and
I fell asleep clutching a sacred tress…”

Francis of Assisi (1181-1226)

Francis of Assisi, like so many saintly seekers, left a story full of travels. Legends abound of his fellowship with wild creatures and conversations with adverse weather. This fresco (by Giotto?) from the eponymous basilica in Assisi (c 1295) depicts the traveler in the early days of his conversion giving rich attire and horse to a ne’er do well knight. From this point on, reduced in distraction and encumbrance, the saint may have begun discourses with his natural surroundings.

*Travelers in desert lands have found that terrible thirst can be eased by placing a pebble on the tongue.

Pebble on the Tongue*

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