UBI CAPUT RECLINET[1]
‘But the son of man hath not where to lay his head.”
Matthew VIII:20
We do not find Christ claiming
His world, His sky, His sun.
of myriads of creatures
He said He had but one.
And all that earth could proffer
He never called His own,
Who only had a Mother
as dwelling place and throne
She was His sole
possession And here His dear head rested
A little Babe contented
those nine months
set apart (Who was the Lord of earth)
fed at a Mother’s breast,
when He had asked permission until she found a manger
Who had designed creation
to live beneath
her heart. the night she gave Him birth.
and chosen this as best.
The years the Child was growing
in grace and wisdom’s ken
were years of His dependence,
most rich to God and men.
We sense the Man’s nostalgia
for home and hearth and bed:
the Son of Mary has not
whereon to lay His head.
The Gospel tells us plainly
that angry billows swept,
while a very tired Jesus
on a borrowed pillow slept.
With head in thorny helment
He sighed His life’s last breath.
Et inclinato capite ...[2]
He turned toward her in death.
The Friday dark descended
on sin’s most woeful art:
the wounded head was lying
upon the sword-pierced heart.
In borrowed tomb she laid Him
in His last poverty,
till rising He would bring her
His bright humanity.
Who hope to share His glory
for Whom there was no room,
are fashioned as his members
within her spirit’s womb.
The truly poor and lowly
who know this residence
shall live the way of Jesus
in Mary’s providence.
Sister Sada Marie. In: Carmel Bride. 1957.
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