with his cap on, his hands tied,
once journeyed the seas as an older man.
he left Arrow behind,
because the dog had grown older,
and craved for the solid ground
like an old man does.
the sea was wide and it had many rings around it
stretching into the sky,
stairs like a rainbow highway,
and he climbed.
Brother Francis laid it low,
even unto heaven's gates.
he cried in the temple with a fever so great that he roared.
with his knees in the earth like the
King of Pentacles,
he built his love of stones and Latin syllables
and pure devotion.
he climbed the ladder of the soul
and at the top there was "want for nothing."
still, he climbed.