It Was An Angel

It was unexpected,

      not unprecedented.

After all, 

      old Zechariah was struck dumb,

      his doubt his shame,

      and dumb he does remain.

Elizabeth, his wife my kinswoman,

      was growing great with child,

      and what was I to do?

The angel appeared out of thin air

      radiant of face and radiant of hair,

      voice rumbling deep waters unto deep,

      words enough to make a woman weep

            and I was but a child.

What words were they? 

      “Behold you shall conceive,

      Mary maiden meek and mild.”

I knew not that I was meek and mild.

I knew only consternation.

      Jesus, bone of bones,

      flesh of flesh, future King of kings.

      Before him every knee shall bow,

      every land and tongue and nation.

I could have pled my age.

I could have simply said him “No!

Not me!  I am not ready!  Choose another!”

I did the very thing He knew I would;

      all my being cried out with one accord,

      "Let it be to me according to your Word!"

And so the deal was struck, 

the covenant was made

      between the angel and our God 

      and me a little maid.