By Brother Francis Maluf, M.I.C.M.One can detect a definite influence from the priest poet, Father Feeney, in the rhyme and rhythm of the philosopher poet, Brother Francis. The former, however, has that Irish flair for painting with words; the latter that Semitic gift for impressing with similitudes. Brother Francis Maluf wrote these fifty-nine poems for leisure. Those of us who know him would have a hard time imagining him sweating for too long over a verse. When he was deeply moved, whether it be by a devotional grace, by wonder at something beautiful to behold, by a gospel story or character, or even by astonishment over some mystery of iniquity, his contemplative heart would seek a poetical means of expression.
Hardcover, 96 pages.
Excerpt:
Who is next?
By Brother Francis Maluf, M.I.C.M.
It need not be the one,
expecting to depart,
The one with the ailing lungs
or failing heart.
Not always one engaged
in a bloody strife
Or one embracing danger
in a ventureful life.
It could be you or I,
by night or day
It’s often one with plans
for a good long stay,
For even angels do but
guess at best
On whom the hand of God
is about to rest.
