By Amanda Pizzolatto
Oh mother of the Holy Offering
How patiently you wait for the light of day
In silence you bear your suffering
For you know death will not keep Him away
To see His face twisted in agony
As He hung from that piece of wood
Your heart felt like it was pierced through
Just like the prophet said it would
Oh mother of the Holy Offering
How tenderly you kissed your Son
As you cleaned His wounds with your tears
As His dying words came to mind; it is done.
You laid Him to rest in a cavern tomb
Which only adds to your aching woe
But you wrapped Him in the shroud with loving care
The way you did when He was a babe long ago
Oh Mother of the Holy Offering
How the hours drag on by
As you await your Son’s return
Before returning to His Father on High
But He will return, as He said
On that glorious Pascal morn
As the gates of Heaven open
Accompanied by the sound of angelic horns
LogoSophia Magazine 