A Mother’s Cry

The Virgin Mother, seeing her own Lamb led to the slaughter, followed wailing with the other women, and cried: Where are you going, my Child? Why do You travel along so fast? Would there perhaps be another wedding in Cana, and you hurry there, to turn for them water into wine? Can I not come with You, my Child? Or tarry with You? Speak to me a word, You Who are the Word. Pass me not by in silence, You, Who kept me pure. For You are my Son and my God.

Oikos, after the Eigth Gospel, read, not chanted, Matins of Holy Friday