As man is born of woman and then is laid in earth, so Christ in Mary’s womb then lay waiting for his birth. The rhythm of her breathing, the music of her pulse: He heard the waters seething and felt her pacing lulls. The passage of her body like falling from the stars, it took from him her heartbeat to lay him in her arms, and yet from thence he left her. Our God’s far-reaching Word, of comfort so he reft her that mercy might be heard. But in the end she held him, once more the ark of grace: When death at last had felled him, she was his resting place, and from her arms they took him to lay him in the tomb. The earth’s foundation shook, then, as promise shattered doom. Now she who was his shelter, who held him on her breast, has entered in his temple: The ark is laid to rest.



sub tuum præsidium confugimus ...
beautiful ode for Our Lady's heavening!