The Wisdom of Wild Grace: A Love Note from Your Online Abbess
St Francis and the Wolf*The city trembled at the wolfoutside its gates, fangs fierce, howling with hunger, fur thick with blood.Francis approaches softly, palms open. When the wolf lunges his breath stays slow and steady,looks with eyes of love,smiles and bowsand the beast whimpers,licks the monk’s salty face,tail a brown banner waving,and follows Francisthrough the streetslike an old friend,to the wonder of all.Except perhaps it’s notsuch a wonder that when we open the gateto all that is fierce and fearful inside us, when we hold our handslike begging bowls,our hearts like candles,the wolf within will wantto lay its soft head