a Child's death

THE
CONSUMMATOR

“It is consummated.” (St. John 19, 30)

In holy love
She’ll consummate
The woman’s womb
Does monthly wait.

A soul whose heart
Will beat and bleed
Through little body’s
Gift, God’s seed.

Her agonizing
Ripped and torn
A flood of blood
Her child is born.

Creating still
Breasts with cream
Consummate mother
Reigns supreme.

Then sudden-shock
God’s gift He’ll call
She cries, “Have pity!”
Then falls the pall.

While death in love
Is a mercy severe
It’s death of love
That we should fear.

For Christ Who died
Upon His cross
Like bloody birth
Came Life not loss.

The clock struck three
But no evil got her
Like Christ’s Mother you’re forever…
A consum-Mater!