PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Here sits the mother of our blessed Lord,


With her beloved son upon her knees,


As prophesied, her soul pierced by the sword,-


The artist sculptor’s splendid Masterpiece!

The mood is one of great solemnity,


Of timeless meditation on her brow,


of life and death and dark necessity,-


In silence pass the tourists and bow low.

The gesture of her Left is eloquent,


Is it acceptance of divine decree?


Resigned a pointing down with her left hand,


Speaks  sacrifice and its immensity!

That He will rise again triumphantly,


Does she,- or not,- this sorrowing mother know?


Or does she feel her loss’s agony


In silent grief as we do here below?

Her son,- the life-size Christ does only seem


to sleep upon her lap, relaxed in rest,


As one who battled hard and now would deem


That  after victory won a rest is best.

Upon her lap and knees the Savior lies


Upon his mother‘s lap so calm and still,


Who‘ll reap the boon of her great sacrifice


And her acceptance of the highest will?,

No learned theologian ever can


Plumb “non plus ultra, “-but can only bow


Before the Sorrowing Mother and her Son


And Art of Master Michelangelo.