Dear Francis …

A few words to St Francis on your festival day, October 4th.

Dear Francis,
You were led from your raucousness and debauchery.
As leader of the pack,
they gathered around you, your disciples,
attracted by a charisma that lit up their lives.
Of course, your pockets held the wealth
which made living as free spirits so easy.
You took it all for granted.
The centre of your life was within you,
focussing on that self which has ruined so many.

But another Charisma sought your energy.
Different followers waited to be your disciples.
Different values, to be ripened by true joy.
Perplexed, perhaps that you were losing direction,
uncertainty gripped that carefree heart
and nothing satisfied.

From the centre of things, you were called to the margins,
where your destiny would discover you.
Kneeling, questioningly, in the dereliction of San Damiano chapel,
you were led to examine your own crumbling life.
In the midst of your despair, Jesus spoke to you,

“Francis, rebuild my Church.”

At first, a physical task,
drawing others to your side as only you could,
but there was so much more to come.
You did not always get it right. None do.
That is why God comes among us often,
casting his grace over us, like rose petals at a wedding.

It is said that, near death, Jesus gifted you with stigmata,
scars, wounds of Christ, as marks on your own body.
But you had received these on your heart long ago,
when you walked as a companion of Jesus.
The Way of the Cross gave you Stations of prayer
by which you were able to shepherd poor, unloved,
uncared for humanity; vulnerable animals;
dancing birds, whose capricious flight was a sign of God’s joy.
And you did not forget the rich,
who more than most need to walk with you, into heaven.

[Mr G. St Francis day 2023]

Murmuration

*Starlings on Snettisham Beach, North Norfolk.*copyright RSPB

Snettisham beach in North Norfolk, near Sandringham Royal Estate, is a good place to witness a phenomenon known as murmuration. Usually at sunset, large groups of Starlings occupy the sky alongside the Wash as they swoop and swirl in packs, ducking and diving as they twist and turn across the sky. They make beautiful shape-shifting formations which are spellbinding and fascinating to watch. It is sheer poetry in motion.

The word murmuration which describes this activity is derived from the noise the birds make by the flapping of wings of so many birds in flight.This tends to happen during the Autumn and Winter months, often from October to March, though sometimes earlier. It tends to peak in December to January when native birds are joined by more birds from all over Europe

At sunset, large groups of starlings take to the sky, swooping and swirling into spheres, planes and waves. The phenomenon is called a murmuration, and it’s named after the noise that is made by the many flapping wings of a group of starlings in flight. Being together offers safety in numbers – predators such as peregrine falcons find it hard to target one bird in the middle of a hypnotizing flock of thousands. They also gather to keep warm at night and to exchange information, such as good feeding areas.

Here’s a poem inspired by wading birds at Snettisham, a reminder of Murmuration of Starlings,
by my friend Piers Northam

Myriad waders
ribbon the foreshore,
crisply backlit
as they needle the sands.

Kettled by tidewater,
they lift and resettle
until, rising together,
they skein
like wind-rippled silk;
billowing into clouded
bee-swarm;
funnelling
and shoaling
as they scud across the skies.

Snettisham beach
29 August ’22