~by Lawrence “Mack” Hall
Upon the Luminous Mountain a bell
Calls all of us to Our Lady’s wounded Heart
She looks at us with sorrow in her eyes
Her scars are like the tears that we should weep
Savaged less by the Hussite than by our sins
Pierced less by the Tartar than by our faults
Scorned less by the Nazi and the Soviet
Than by our callous, fashionable neglect
O let us hear the calling of that bell –
It sings us to Our Lady’s loving heart