Shoulder Wound
It's said St.
Bernard asked Our Lord:
The greatest suff'ring that He endured,
One that men did not record:
And Jesus spoke in truth assured...
It was
the wound, His shoulder wore,
Tore, by the
cross He did carry;
A pain more, than another sore.
Thus revealed, the Son of Mary.
An
imprimatured prayer,
Says His flesh was cut to bone,
The skeletal there, laid bare,
From the gnaw of wood, to atone.
Now let
thy mind, contemplate
The scene of Paradise past:
The fruit our parents in Eden ate,
Upon which, the eyes of Eve were cast...
She should ne'er have lingered a look,
Nor list, for the devil to tempt desire,
Nor the fruit have fingered and took,
To the cunning smile of the fallen liar,
For what
to Eve was appealing,
Was the serpent's tongue deceiving,
When she touched the fruit, it feeling,
She opened herself to death receiving.
And taking the fruit to eat,
She succumbed to her defeat!
And when father Adam ate,
It sadly sealed our fate!
Her bite
and that of Adam her spouse,
Left a bitter taste, for all who follow:
In every mouth in every house,
For the progeny of us to swallow.
Much we
lost, through original sin,
It bruised our nature too;
Thus the plight we find we're in,
The sin we're left to rue
Yet, in the God's Redemptive plan
There'd be a bite in another Fruit,
To make amends for the sin of man:
A wooden bite, on Calvary's route.
From the
chew of crucifying wood,
On Him, Who causes all to be,
From it, we may taste His Grace and good
—A sweetness to savor for eternity!
—John
Riedell
|
|