A cross and a crown of thorns and a scoffing jeering mob
Relentless pursuance and a mother’s stifled sob
A wayfarer’s reluctant help and a woman’s sympathetic touch
Three times a fall; beneath the cross was crushed
Despite it all consoling words he uttered
to weeping women; who saw his robe blood – splattered
All too soon his robe with skin was wrenched away
Nailed to a tree, his life blood ebbed away.
A sorrowing mother at the foot of the cross did stand
Why this had to be could she understand?
Gall for his thirst and a spear thrust at his side
“Father forgive them” from the cross he cried.
How many innocent ones have suffered for no fault of their own
How many mothers for their sons in agony mourn
The enactment of the way of the cross has meaning in our lives
Christ-like many have their lives sacrificed.
Jeannette Cabraal