nuncio Christi

Harvey S. Mozolak

from the Lucian palette
the angel’s cadmium gold wings
are stroked next to the blessed mother
as yet unburdened
by the extra weight of heaven’s favor
in his pinioned hands
one could picture a lily
for her purity of purpose
“let it be with me’
the bulb of my belly
“according to your word”
buried
or still a sword
piercing the heart of every joy’s juice
her heartbeat comingled
in the covering by the dripping of his blood
in the embrace of new son John
or yet a shroud
to receive the loaf of cooling bread
broken and held in sarcophagal napkins
or even an empty cup for filling
to toast the throne of David the servant
of another kingdom forever lost
his robe a painter’s rag
undivided by the die
for the fortunate sponging the dripping easel

daubed with doxa his hands are brushed open in prayer
departing at the presence
not nearer but more visible
on the canvas of time
before the ceiling paint has dried
Mary sealed hurries to greet Elizabeth
with all magnificent news
that will be framed
by the high most low
his holding nails
for the hanging

Annunciation, 2009