Look:
Annunciation
by Denise Levertov 
We know the scene: the room, variously furnished,
almost always a lectern, a book; always the tall lily.
Arrived on solemn grandeur of great wings,the angelic ambassador, standing or hovering,
whom she acknowledges, a guest.
But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions courage.
The engendering Spirit
did not enter her without consent.
God waited.
She was free
to accept or to refuse,
choice integral to humanness.
____________________________
Aren’t there annunciations
of one sort or anotherin most lives?
Some unwillingly
undertake great destinies,
enact them in sullen pride,
uncomprehending.
More often
those moments
when roads of light and storm
open from darkness in a man or woman,
are turned away fromin dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair
and with relief. Ordinary lives continue.
God does not smite them.
But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.
She had been a child who played, ate, slept
like any other child – but unlike others,
wept only for pity, laughed in joy not triumph.
Compassion and intelligence
fused in her, indivisible.
Called to a destiny more momentous than any in all of Time,she did not quail,
only asked
a simple, 'How can this be?'
and gravely, courteously,
took to heart the angel’s reply, perceiving instantly
the astounding ministry she was offered:
to bear in her womb Infinite weight and lightness; to carry
in hidden, finite inwardness,
nine months of Eternity; to contain
in slender vase of being,the sum of power –
in narrow flesh,the sum of light.
Then bring to birth,push out into air, a Man-childneeding, like any other,milk and love –
but who was God. This was the minute no one speaks of, when she could still refuse.
A breath unbreathed, Spirit,
suspended,
waiting.
of one sort or anotherin most lives?
Some unwillingly
undertake great destinies,
enact them in sullen pride,
uncomprehending.More often
those moments
when roads of light and storm
open from darkness in a man or woman,
are turned away fromin dread, in a wave of weakness, in despair
and with relief. Ordinary lives continue.
God does not smite them.
But the gates close, the pathway vanishes.
She had been a child who played, ate, slept
like any other child – but unlike others,
wept only for pity, laughed in joy not triumph.
Compassion and intelligence
fused in her, indivisible.
Called to a destiny more momentous than any in all of Time,she did not quail,
only asked
a simple, 'How can this be?'
and gravely, courteously,
took to heart the angel’s reply, perceiving instantly
the astounding ministry she was offered:
to bear in her womb Infinite weight and lightness; to carry
in hidden, finite inwardness,
nine months of Eternity; to contain
in slender vase of being,the sum of power –
in narrow flesh,the sum of light.Then bring to birth,push out into air, a Man-childneeding, like any other,milk and love –
but who was God. This was the minute no one speaks of, when she could still refuse.
A breath unbreathed, Spirit,
suspended,
waiting.
She did not cry, "I cannot, I am not worthy,"
nor "I have not the strength."She did not submit with gritted teeth,
raging, coerced.
Bravest of all humans,
consent illumined her.
The room filled with its light,
the lily glowed in it,
and the iridescent wings.
Consent,
courage unparalleled,
opened her utterly.
nor "I have not the strength."She did not submit with gritted teeth,
raging, coerced.
Bravest of all humans,
consent illumined her.
The room filled with its light,
the lily glowed in it,
and the iridescent wings.
Consent,
courage unparalleled,
opened her utterly.
Levertov, Denise. The Stream and the Saphire. New York: New Directions Books, 1997.
Pictures as seen on: Women In Theology Blog. http://witheology.wordpress.com/2010/12/13/poetic-annunciation/, 12/13/10. Accessed: 05/13/11.
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