Who is that man
We know as pope,
Speaks of his god
In guarded hope,
Yet but a notion
He finds to cloud
Anomic motion,
Thus pope’s nod
Tries realize,
Deeds worth born
Thru wise contrive,
Wants reach out
To obviate scorn
Of all who doubt,
Self-serve beliefs
Of ambiguous gods,
Begs we question
Ill fated concepts,
Whose insecure souls
Must suffer its tenet,
Said reflections of man mad
In a world of self-destruction!
ode to Udo for inspiring
this poem on now Pope Francesco,
possibly the greatest in modern history!
Poetry on a Canapé 
Back from a blogging break – great to see your posts and words. Hope all is well in your world. I’ve just reread the article your sent me on Poet Jane Hirshfield “How to read poetry and restore amazement.” Have gone back to is several times over the summer months! 🙂