On the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows (September 15):
A garden dark and darker hearts
bring agony this day;
From Sunday palms to Friday whips
the passions wave astray;
He bears the tree with broken heart
upon the stony way.
With body raised, He hangs in pain
And very few will stay
To watch the life escape Him now
Instead they run away.
But someone stands beneath the Cross
to keep despair at bay
And Christ can smile before He dies:
He hears His mother pray.
Very poignant and wonderfully expressed, Clayton! Sometimes I wonder: “Why weren’t we all created immaculate, like Mary? Then I think: “Would i be willing to bear her cross?” I hardly can bear a head ache or a little hunger!