Annunciation

Annunciation- A poem by Denise  Levertov.

‘Hail, space for the uncontained God’
From the Agathistos Hymn,

Greece, VIc

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 another in 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 from in 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, 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-child
 needing, like any other,
 milk and love– but who was God.


This was the moment 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.