which spoke to St Francis
A church about to fall.
The saint of poverty
Knelt in the church to pray,
Loving its poverty.
Flesh-tint and gold leaf
Hung there above him: a cross.
With bodily ears he heard
A voice speak from the cross
In pain, exhorting him
Repair my broken house.
Stone by stone he repaired
The body of that house:
For though the letter kills,
The spirit and the word
Move in the flesh alone.
So too, although the words
Spoken by painted wood
And answered in his work
May not be what we hear,
It is a speaking work.