13 Aug Your Mother Loves You, Son
How much we wept
In the temple when the Lord had left
And wept with joy
For He returned as our baby boy
When we brought you in
There was a man, his name was Simeon
From his lips would pour
Seven things for Your mother to endure
Soon then, our flight
When the angel came with fire in the night
We had to flee
No pillar of cloud lead us to safety
And in my dreams
I heard it all, I heard the children’s screams
I wept for them
We never went back to Bethlehem
It was on our mind
In Jerusalem, You had stayed behind
For three days
Your mother wept, her heart set ablaze
My garden rose
My little lamp, a gift wrapped in bows
As I depart
I saw three swords plunged in her heart
I wish I was there
As four more swords hovered in the air
Each for my wife
And three for You meant to end Your life
Recall her embrace
On the sorrowful way, she wiped your face
As they spat at You
You broken orb, You dream come true
And when You were lifted up
How was Your mother strong enough
To stay, she never left Your side
I am grateful to John for
Being with her at the cross
At the end of Your life
Her heart bled fire, so John and Mary
Held on tight to stay by her
She held Your broken body
And rose petals danced in the air above
All of Your mother’s love
Poured out as tears over You
She said, “The Lord has blessed me, yet
This is still so hard to do.”
You loved Your mother so much
Though she wept as the tomb was closed
Only she could bear all of the sorrows
You loved Your mother so much
Simeon revealed all the dark things he knows
Only she could bear the first of the sorrows
In Egypt You still wore swaddling clothes
Only she could bear the second of sorrows
We could not find You among the temple’s stones
Only she could bear the third of the sorrows
She followed You farther than any mother goes
Only she could bear the fourth of the sorrows
How she wept at Your feet for the fate You chose
Only she could bear the fifth of the sorrows
She held You in her arms, full in her woes
Only she could bear the sixth of the sorrows
You still love Your mother so much
Though she weeps as the tomb is closed
Only she could bear the seventh of sorrows
Through all of her sorrows, she never wavered
That is why she is the one whom God favored
And for me was the pleasure to call her my wife
For I was dutiful and chaste all of my life
For I always loved her as I always loved You
And know her sorrows were my sorrows, too
Not in the fullness of all He laid upon her
Though to share it in part was the highest honor
The Immaculate Rose for whom each sword
Inflicted a wound from out which poured
Infinite mercies from the Righteous One
Sealed within the mother of His only Son