At heaven’s high command,
a white-hot beam of purest light
penetrates time and space
to touch our tiny blue planet.
In a peasant cottage,
silence is muted by
an alien presence; the
whispering whir of mighty wing.
Flesh crawls with palpable terror
as the dazzling creature, a holy flame,
fixes its piercing gaze on one
wide-eyed, trembling maiden.
“Do not be afraid.”
Surprising, melodious words
uttered by molten-gold messenger
to an ordinary girl who pales
in wonder, what can this mean?
Glory’s courier speaks favor—
words of prophets coming true
Spirit of I AM will overshadow you,
virgin chosen to mother Messiah.
Her eyes lower, palms sweat,
as dry lips answer from her
wildly-beating, totally yielded heart,
she burns but does not disintegrate.
“I am the Lord’s servant.”
(Originally posted in 2012 as “advent: trial by fire”; later, expanded and focused. I was privileged to read this at our church Christmas Eve service 2016, 2018, 2019!)
a poem in my pocket 