Transitus, or, Sister Death outside the little portion

*

A sickly beggar

A leper, a nobody

A poverello

*

He is poor as dirt

He is weak and he is small

He knows he’s dying

*

He will be dead soon

He does not think this a loss

Millions disagree

*

They tend his bedside

They give him almond cookies

They tell him to eat

*

He feels unworthy

Others are poorer than he

He tries to refuse

*

The baker tells him

He is poor enough for this

Almond charity

*

He takes a nibble

It’s good but he is dying

And rain drums the roof

*

Others are drowning

Why should he have dry shelter?

He should have nothing

*

This Little Portion

Is far too rich a palace

For him, a sinner

*

He struggles to rise

Asks those tending his death bed

To take him outside

*

They protest and grieve

But Francis is their father

And so they obey

*

They carry him out

And Sister Rain bows her head

Then she steps away

*

They lay him gently

Upon an outdoor bier

But this is too grand

*

He takes off his habit

Crawls down to the cold, wet Earth

But feels soft warm sands

*

And his brothers cry

When they shiver he wishes

He could wash their feet

*

His voice now too weak

Francis tries to sing praises

But falters and coughs

*

So all creation

The crickets and the angels

Lift his little song

*

Sister Death now bends

And draws among the mourners

To tend his bedside

*

A dying poor man,

Renounces all belongings,

Even his body

*

Soft Earth at his back

Broad sky his shroud, nude Francis

Flows from place t0 peace

***

***

***

Explanation of terms:

Francis of Assisi Even if you don’t know who he was, you’ve probably seen his likeness before: in the form of statuary of a bald monk holding a bird bath in so many gardens.

Born Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone, he was a man who renounced all worldly possessions and lived in willful poverty. Spurning his own claim to inherited wealth and ease, he became a beggar and spent his time caring for the poor and lepers, people who were relegated to the untouchable fringes of society.

His bold rejection of materialism and ego were so shocking and radical and counter cultural for medieval Italy, that he attracted spectators, some of whom ended up following his example. He founded a religious movement, the Order of Friars Minor (Lesser Brothers), and their female counter part, the Poor Clares. Today, modern Franciscans are involved in a variety of ministries and charities.

There’s a lot more I could say about Francis of Assisi, there are some stories about him I really love. I’m actually in the process of writing a book length fictionalized bio about him.

Poverello is just another name for Francis, really a term of endearment translating to: “poor little man”. Usually you’ll see it as “Il (the) Poverello”, but I feel Francis would be rankled by the implied distinction of “the” so I used “a poverello” instead to soften the blow.

A habit, in this context is a modest article of clothing, worn by Francis and others in his order. Simple, rough cloth, not fashionable or comfortable, or much of anything besides the barest utility. Think a robe, like what you’d see on Friar Tuck from Robin Hood but less cozy, and tied with a rope rather than a belt, because belts can carry weapons.

Transitus is a Latin word meaning to pass through, in this context it marks a specific holiday for Franciscans (October 3rd) that celebrates the death of Francis of Assisi and his passing from bodily life through death and into spiritual life.

The Little Portion is a specific building, a small chapel near Assisi which served as the home chapel and meeting place for the early Franciscans. It was one of several small, neglected chapels around Assisi which Francis labored to rebuild and resore.

Its proper name in Italian is: Porziuncola.

Francis died just a few yards outside of this unassuming little chapel, and then, somewhat ironically people built a huge basilica over the Porziuncola and the site of his death. It’s now a popular pilgrimage destination.

Sister Death was a characterization of death which Francis himself used in a prayer poem he wrote titled “The Canticle of the Creatures”.

It tells a beautiful sense of family between all of creation, creation which Francis sees as singing praises to their Creator by the very beauty of their existence.

He dictated most of the poem in the late stages of his life, after being stricken with blindness— and added the verse about sister death while on his deathbed, and I believe he really added it as a means of comforting the beloved companions who were gathered around him.

Also worth noting: this poem is thought to be the earliest surviving piece of literature written in the Italian language, which makes Francis the first credited author of an Italian poem.

Here’s the English translation, from Wikipedia:

Most High, all powerful, good Lord,

Yours are the praises, the glory, the honour, and all blessing.

To You alone, Most High, do they belong,

and no man is worthy to mention Your name.

Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures,

especially Sir Brother Sun,

who brings the day; and you give light through him.

And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendour!

Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars,

in heaven you formed them clear and precious and beautiful.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Wind,

and through the air, cloudy and serene,

and every kind of weather through which you give sustenance to Your creatures.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Water,

which is very useful and humble and precious and chaste.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Fire,

through whom you light the night and he is beautiful

and playful and robust and strong.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Mother Earth,

who sustains us and governs us and who produces

varied fruits with coloured flowers and herbs.

Praised be You, my Lord, through those who give pardon for Your love,

and bear infirmity and tribulation.

Blessed are those who endure in peace

for by You, Most High, they shall be crowned.

Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death,

from whom no living man can escape.

Woe to those who die in mortal sin.

Blessed are those who will find Your most holy will,

for the second death shall do them no harm.

Praise and bless my Lord, and give Him thanks and serve Him with great humility.