Classic Poem

I dreamed that I was Francis of Assisi
In shadowy daisy field of misty dawn,
The children of the air, my ministrants,
Flocking about with matins of sweet song.

" My tiny choristers of field and tree,
Blithe winged disciples, " so my sermon ran,
" I bring the word of God to comfort you,
Good tidings of our Savior Christ, the risen. "

And thereupon wings flapped about my face
And cries derisive rang from feathered throats.
" You of the Titan race, " they shrilly called,
" Who preach of love and seek us but to slay,
Apostates revelling in lust of blood! "

A mother robin 'plained: " What bliss was mine,
What hope, what promise in those eggs of blue,
Snug in my plastered cradle hid away
Until the prying bandit eyes had pierced
My leafy screen and my dear home despoiled! "
" Alas, " outpiped the quail, " the huntsman came
And slew my chosen mate, and called it sport,
While I am left in lonely copse to mourn. "

Then with a wail of anguish winged anigh
A snowy egret like an angel white
Out of the mist of heaven to challenge me:
" A host of wings erstwhile amid the trees,
A throng of mothers' hearts about the nests!
Ah, little did they dream of ravage drear,
That mothers of the lordlier race of men
So craved our nuptial dower of airy plumes
That they should have us slain in wantonness
While all our little ones with piteous cries
Awaited the slow stealing on of death. "

Thereat the frantic birds came clamoring round
To mob me from the grove with mocking scorn,
When loud a gun pealed forth its breath of doom,
Some passing sportsman's challenge to the throng,
And lifeless fluttered down a feathery form.
Startled I roused me from my sombre dream
But shook not off the woodland reverie.

What is this life we take so wantonly?
A spark of God's great love so stamped upon
Because we have the craft and lust to kill!
What Golden Rule is made for man alone?
The beast looks in your eyes and cries you shame.
Let us renounce blood sacraments and dare
To live untainted by corrupting flesh,
And in the might of tenderness rejoice.
Methinks that Buddha's way leads unto peace
Through kinship with the least and lowliest lives.
All are God's children, even as thou and I,
United in the spirit of brotherhood,
And in th' eternal reckoning shall be
Accounted in the great Creator's plan.