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Franciscan Spirit Blog

‘I See His Blood Upon the Rose’

May 11, 2020
‘I See His Blood Upon the Rose’ | Photo by sanjoy saha on Unsplash

“I See His Blood Upon the Rose” is a perfect reminder of God’s great gift of love as revealed through the suffering and rising of Jesus Christ, the Incarnate Word. In this poem, all created things seem to remind the poet of God’s incredible love, dramatized through the person of Christ.


About the Poet, Joseph Mary Plunkett

Born in Dublin in 1887, Joseph Plunkett wrote many poems of rare, mystical force. Plunkett was one of the signers of the Proclamation of the Irish Republic and was imprisoned by the English army. He was executed in 1916 for his part in the 1916 Easter Rising. Shortly before his execution on May 4, he married his fiancée, Grace Gifford, in the jail’s chapel. Plunkett was 28 years old.

Because of his great love for the Incarnate Word—and the Word’s close connection to all created things—Plunkett saw Christ’s destiny and great love as forever entwined with this earth and this universe.

“I See His Blood upon the Rose”

I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.
I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice—and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words. All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,
His cross is every tree.”


My Line-by-Line Meditations

I see his blood upon the rose
When we gaze at a rose—or any other part of this universe—we see not only the individual beauty of the rose, but also the intensity of God’s care behind that rose and behind the universe itself.

And in the stars the glory of his eyes
In the stars, we see not only the glory of his death and total self-giving, but also the glory of his risen body and his death-conquering gaze.

His body gleams amid eternal snows
When we look at snowcapped mountains or other snowy vistas, we might see glimpses of Christ’s pale body, as when taken down from the cross—or his glorified, transfigured body shining brighter than snow.

His tears fall from skies
Again, behind the lovely everyday processes of nature, we can’t help seeing the love of our Great Lover—and the tears he shed over Jerusalem or during his agony in the garden.

I see his face in every flower
Every flower, indeed everything in this universe, reminds us of Christ. As St. Paul tells the Colossians (1:16), “All things were created through him and for him.” We recall, too, that St. Francis saw in the beauty of flowers the One who is Beauty itself.

The thunder and singing of the birds/Are but his voice
Singing birds and all other sounds of nature communicate one thing: God’s great love for us.

And carven by his power/Rocks are his written words
Christ, the Word made flesh, is truly intermingled with the universe. Creation itself is a reflection of the Word through whom “all things came to be” (Jn 1:3).

All pathways by his feet are worn
At the Incarnation, God made this world his home. Every path, trail, and road of this earth has taken on an elevated dignity and meaning because of the pathways Christ took while accomplishing his mission on earth. All paths remind us of the pathway he took to save us—the Way of the Cross.

His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea
In the sea pounding against the jagged coast, we get glimpses of Christ’s mighty heart pounding with love for us.

His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn
Every thorn is somehow intertwined with Christ’s crown of thorns. Indeed, in every created thing we see Christ’s saving love.

His cross is every tree
Behind every tree, we can see Christ’s cross—and the Creator’s unconditional love.

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Thu, 03/11/2021 - 08:22 AM
Thank you for the lovely line by line meditation. I cannot find an Irish version of this poem, am looking on Google, for a Ciorcal Comhra class that I attend tonight. I would be grateful if you know of any . Gura maith agat. Brid Handley
Sat, 05/15/2021 - 11:30 PM
This poem makes my morning walk a meditation.
Anne Buchan
Sat, 09/18/2021 - 10:21 AM
Anne Buchan
We were in beautiful Ireland in 2019 my friend and I and one of the most moving things was to visit the Glasnevin Cemetery and see the Monuments there to Joseph Plunkett and the other heroic Irish Catholics who paid the ultimate price for their beloved Country and her people’s freedom. There are two good articles on the subject and its corollaries in the December 2016 edition of “Christian Order” (now online so am told). I also saw the Servant of God, Frank Duff’s, grave there; he placed this beautiful poem in the Legion of Mary Handbook! And this Year is The Centenary of this Great movement, too! Ireland needs these faithful Catholic heroes now more than ever. And so do the sons and daughters of Erin scattered around the world.

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