EDITOR’S NOTE: This is the fifth in a series of nine Eucharistic poems by Br. Dain, leading up to Corpus Christi. We hope they will be an inspiration for your prayer and reflection.
Howling wind through jagged clefts
Blows o’er the rocky hill,
Barren, grey with naught to stop
A cruel and biting chill.
The groaning earth, with trembling base,
The thundering of the sky,
As though the earth had murdered God,
And nature did reply.
The velvet clouds enshroud the land,
So shadows all appear.
A silence blankets everything
With cool and blackened fear.
The vinegar, the dice, the nails,
The clanking iron chain,
The chaos, reeds and hammer harsh,
The instruments of pain.
The soldiers belting out their jest,
The confused and shuffling crowd,
The raven and the cursing thief,
The high priests jeering loud.
Above this scene looms clear the cross,
Commanding all the sight,
With drooping, mangled, tortured load,
Gasping with his might.
“Forgive them for they do not know
What they now do to me.”
“Today with me in paradise,
You’ll be eternally.”
“My God, why’ve you forsaken me.”
“I thirst.” “Behold your son.”
“Into your hands I give my soul.”
“At last the work is done.”
Infinite love, beyond all thought,
Through precious blood does flow.
Your shredded skin and crown of thorns,
No price will you forego.
Vere res mirabilis.
Ad mortem dilexit nos.
Oh Saviour, Son of God, made man,
You’ve brought this love so close.
For on the altar daily Christ
Relives for us his death,
His final cruel agony,
His final, painful breath.
That none of us might say to Him
That we had not been there,
He wants us all to witness it,
In finem love to share.
This very sacrifice is here,
Although no blood we see,
Yet truly here no greater love.
Here is Calvary.
