Wednesday of the Fifth Week of Easter
May 6, 2010
A tribute to the Sorrowful Mother during May
My dear heavenly Mother,
who suffered like to no other…
except, Himself, the Savior.
You have blessed me without measure
with signs concrete and discreet,
new health and new fervor
to spread the Word in my life.
The Gospel message, so compelling–
rings Truth, in bell-tone clarity
a choir of angels singing
dulcet and sweet harmonies
to the mountain-tops ascending…
yet through prophetic dreams
no hosannas nor alleluias,
only disjunction and discord seem
to be our lot as humans…
the utterings of poor old Simeon
that a sword would pierce the Immaculate
Heart of this Blessed Virgin…
oh, dear Mother of my vocation…
we, too, begin the desert journey–
jolting on the backs of donkeys–
the weight of the Holy Innocents
borne on shoulders sick of sinning;
burdened with exile from the Presence…
the land barren and bereft: no one winning!
The grief so heavy and exponential,
the lives of Your children, lost and gone forever…
not found there in Your temple–
where questions of the priests and rabbi’s
will go unanswered–unaddressed…
by the Model.
No sacred mysteries lit with all Knowledge
from the Master–no rest in Wisdom
for the wicked… the children,
pure and simple, cannot find their Way,
the path unopened. Bless them,
tender Mother; you know how Jesus loved them!
He, on the trudge to Calvary,
saw you weeping; His cross and ours,
carried by bodies bruised–torn and shorn
of dignity–horrendously humiliated…
He challenges us to LOVE in spite of losses,
daring us to LOVE, tho’ emnity searing
the souls of all who conceive these crosses–
the instruments of grace
for all God’s People.
We cannot be saved without this action,
the necessity of suffering
is for our sins and the sins of many…
we all contribute to what is seen
as God, unforgiving and non-compassionate…
No my Precious Lord!
It is not You, but is what is in us!
The heat of hell
surrounds and confounds us…
to stand underneath, until the tomb
overwhelms the life-force in us.
Then bitter cold
heals and releases
the desolation of death:
the void and emptiness,
it is then, dear Mother,
your arms encompass…
to take us home to our Father;
where mercy and LOVE’s kiss
gently heals all wounds and dryness.
I love you, my sweet Mother!
Show me Christ, my Spouse and Brother!
Where He leads, I follow
with you; the jugs for wine
filled with the Waters of Life