In alabaster pure and white,
Carved Mary under angels’ light,
A mother’s touch, gentle and mild,
Upon a form, her sacred child.
The child in metal, cold and smooth,
In hallowed silence, truths behoove,
His crucifixion, cross unseen,
A hollow echo in the serene.
Her fingers trace the chilling shell,
In hollowed form, a silent knell,
Yet on her lips, a smile’s dawn,
Unbroken love, forever drawn.
Cold metal meets the mother’s grace,
In tender touch, a warm embrace.
A story etched in stone and steel,
Of faith and love, forever real.
