“We esteemed her life as foolishness and her death madness, but see…”

I would like to share this poem by one of our Sisters who reflects on the "foolishness" of our Poor Clare way of life.



Fired in His Heart this octave past
She burns,
Ardent for severing word
to set her singing
ever
after the Lamb.

Little fool!
Giving her love to impersonal Entity!
Flinging her life away
For One long dead!
Fool!
And a greater Fool
Fills her ashes with His Life,
Wears her death
for a ring.