What is this strange eruption,
this in-breaking of light,
this strange luminescence
that sparks a secret word,
that brings the presence
whose name I dare not speak?
A sudden rush of meaning,
dazzling, hopeful, dreadful,
impossible. How can this be?
Silly question, to ask the One
Who makes stars from nothing.
Or so the herald seems to say.
Yet gentle are the words.
Loving the Soul that speaks.
The Kingdom comes apace.
I am the servant of the Lord.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent
Featured image is The Annunciation, by Henry Ossawa Tanner