“I thank my god for brother wind,” <br />So prayed St. Francis long ago <br />In words of simple, joyous praise, <br />That fill my heart with sudden glow <br />As-braced by winter’s icy draught- <br />With singing soul, and strengthened mind, <br />I humbly join the good Saint’s prayer <br />Thank my God for “Brother Wind.” <br /> <br />For Brother Wind, who, whispering soft <br />Brings subtlest perfume on his wings, <br />The violet scent of childhood days, <br />The lost delight in simple things; <br />For Brother wind, who whistling keen <br />O’er open plain and storm-scarred hill, <br />Cleanses from mind, and heart, and brain, <br />All thoughts of wrong, and ancient ill. <br /> <br />Who wafts from scarce-stirred lily beds <br />Incense of early purity, <br />Or wakes to life our laggard souls <br />With stinging fragrance of the sea. <br /> <br />Echoes of Heaven, far-off and faint <br />For weary heart and tired mind, <br />Sweet long-lost memories, old and quaint- <br />These are the gifts of Brother Wind. <br /> <br />Ah! Dear St. Francis, let me kneel <br />Before thy shrine with joyous mind <br />Joining my humble, grateful prayer, <br />Thanking our God for Brother Wind.<br /><br />Alice Guerin Crist<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brother-wind/
