Padre Pio

There is a friar
Who walks
The roadways
Of my mind
Did step into
Our living room
One dark November eve
From the memoirs
Of one who sought his
Help
Found encouragement
For her brave journey
That settled on an eastern
Shore not far from here.

The barriers of language
Crumbled at their meeting
The rosary he blest
Gave grace to that
Far off shore
Where one spring
I lay upon the warming
Ground and felt comfort
Rise through the earth
To heal my sad, crushed form.

The November he came
In promise to abide with
The presence of his brother
Who bore the burden of the
Banner raising this friar
To the ranks of the saints
Within the week, to be named
Our shepherd sent to
Guide and love
In gift with this friar
God's company to blossom
On the roadways of life
We must travel on.