In My Hand
A Verse for the Annunciation
Lentils strewn
across the wall
in a dusky wave
These things I remember
Mid-day hunger
we had an onion
so the stew smelled rich
I filled my bowl to the brim,
heard a rustling,
like leaves
or the tops of juniper trees
swaying in the wind
And turned
"Hail, Full of Grace ..."
Light broke the room
with a voice
terrible,
but sweet
I could see him
yet through him
he was golden,
white and blue --
with silver specks
sparking off his skin
like moonlight on water
And the lentils,
they flew
from my hand
when I jumped
and gasped
and grabbed my throat
to find it silent
Only the sound
of a wooden bowl,
clattering across stone,
and his words,
"Be Not Afraid,"
filled the room
As strong and as real
as the fire beneath my pot
As strong and as real
as the cold beneath my feet
As strong and as real
as the waft of lentils
for which,
I was no longer hungry
These things I remember
I hold them in my hand
like the same wooden bowl,
now cracked on one side,
my finger finds the line often
and traces it
like a scar
Especially when I feed
my Son of the Most High
lentils or pottage or goat curds,
His favorite,
and He squeals and smacks and splats
them on His face,
in my hair,
on the wall
I laugh at the Child's dancing brown eyes,
but words spoken over Him
grip my heart all the more
as He now reaches
to grip my hand
"And of His Kingdom there shall be no end."
"And of His Kingdom there shall be no end."
"And of His Kingdom there shall be no end."
Yea,
Be it done to me according to thy word
--Sarah Johnson
