Mother of All Sorrows

O Mary, you presented Christ in sorrow,
your heart pierced by a sword, you faced the morrow.

When you, your baby and St. Joseph flew
to Egypt, chased by death, with sorrow two.

A third when He was in the temple, lost,
where you found Him, raised someday to be crossed.

A fourth stabbed you when He and you would meet,
carrying His cross as you grieved at His feet.

The fifth tore through your heart before the cross,
where, tempted, you might think that all was loss.

Your sixth, the Pieta, held in your arms
your own Son dead, now safe from all the harms.

The last sword pierced your heart when at the tomb,
you buried Him you carried in your womb.

by Pete Voelz       9/15/13
on this feast day of Our Lady of Sorrows
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