Saint Francis de Sales, Pray for Us, Fiona Spring (June 2026)
Saint Francis de Sales, Pray for Us
You helped me through that coastal camping
trip.
I put your Introduction, faded, bent,
into the heavy bag that weighed our tent
down on the stormy mountain. Each cold rip
and gust brought chills to question the excursion.
What did we seek so far up this cold trail?
You saw my husband’s hopes rise, like the gale,
That my new faith would wilt through such diversion.
Next morning, I read through your sunlit words.
While waves along the beach crashed rhythmically,
My soul was drawn into unpracticed prayer.
We walked the wetlands, marveled at the birds.
Then, after dark, the wind grew back more thickly
and nearly launched us, tented, into nowhere.
I put your Introduction, faded, bent,
into the heavy bag that weighed our tent
down on the stormy mountain. Each cold rip
and gust brought chills to question the excursion.
What did we seek so far up this cold trail?
You saw my husband’s hopes rise, like the gale,
That my new faith would wilt through such diversion.
Next morning, I read through your sunlit words.
While waves along the beach crashed rhythmically,
My soul was drawn into unpracticed prayer.
We walked the wetlands, marveled at the birds.
Then, after dark, the wind grew back more thickly
and nearly launched us, tented, into nowhere.
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