The Orphan Poem by Joseph S. Josephides

They nominate Petros as Pope Alexander the Fifth,
Cardinals, Archbishops, an abundance of officials
around, his wet eyes cannot see clearly anyone.

His thought runs back to his poverty place, Kares,
to the plague that stole the caress of his parents.
He calms down when he sees with his imagination
the Friars of the Monastery of St Anthony in Fraro;
they hug him, the Franciscans of Hantaca did same,
finds himself in Padova for studies, in Oxford and Paris,
in mission to baptize Eagelon and people of Lithuania.

Good for him that the duke of Visconti entrusted him
and became Bishop of Placentia, Cardinal of Milan;
so, a title has value only if one honors it with his soul.

He stands still…a man signals from the back benches.
Looks like the friar, his mentor while a boy in the abbey!
Feeling hypnotized he hears a loud echo mentoring him
‘You Orphan, lead with love this nude orphan world.’


© JosephJosephides