Christ of Calvary

 

On this evening, Christ of Calvary,

 I came to pray for my sick flesh; 

But, seeing you, my eyes

 go back and forth from your body 

to my body with shame.

How can I complain about my tired feet, 

when I see yours shattered? 

How do I show you my empty hands 

when yours are full of wounds?

How can I explain to you my loneliness, 

when on the cross lifted up and you are alone? 

How can I explain to you that I have no love 

when your heart is torn?

Now I don't remember anything, 

all my ailments fled from me. 

 The impetus of the plea he brought 

drowns in my begging mouth.

And I only ask you not to ask for anything,

 to be here, right in your dead image, 

to learn that pain is only 

the holy key of your holy door.

  Amen.