Sacred wounds

Sacred wounds of my dear Jesus
Deep and cruel gashes
No compassion for the King of Mercy
Treated unjustly as a criminal
Taking our punishments upon his back
For the sins of the flesh and mind
Depraved, gruesome, unkind.

Sacred wounds of Christ the King
Cruel thorns for a crown
Mocking his majesty
Demeaning his divinity
Purple robe and sceptre in hand
Hair matted and dripping with blood
Gentle lamb, pushed and shoved.

Sacred wounds of our divine Jesus
His shoulder bearing our sins
The heavy Cross tearing the skin and muscles
The shoulder that was always ready
To support and console the tired and weary
Carrying the world’s transgressions
Making amends with his sorrowful passion.

Sacred Wounds of my Lord Jesus
His strong hands that shaped the wood with Joseph.
Gentle hands that held his mother.
Hands that healed the sick
And blessed and broke the bread of life.
A rough wooden Cross, caressed
Torn by the nails
Searing pain
For heaven’s gain.

Sacred Wounds of my Saviour
His travel weary feet
Walking to bring Good News
Covered with dust
Washed by the repentant tears of Mary
Toughened by the stones upon the road
Straining forward under an unforgiving load.

Sacred wound of a heart divine
Stopped as He breathed forth his life
Pierced through in reparation
Blood and water gushing forth
To wash away the sins of mankind
Shattering the earth, and temple veil torn
Blessed Mother broken and pierced, and left to mourn.