by Denise Levertov
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,
perceiving instantly
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 --
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