At the Basilica of Annunciation
In Nazareth, the statue of the Virgin Mary
Leans toward the eye with raptured
Determination, moving beyond her icon
To run toward the voice of Gabriel,
A poem from God, the muse of the Holy Spirit.
Just before Mass, a Palestinian girl moves
Through the congregation catching my eye
Her hymnbooks in Arabic; her smile, alive
With grace, magnifies movement. Black hair
On shoulders, her blue dress captures the mystery:
This Mary now un-statued stands before me—
No Gabriel sent from God, but a man.
I shrug my shoulders and smile: “English.”
She laughs and glides by. I am left to celebrate
The peace, share broken bread while she sings
A Magnificat of praise in Arabic rhythms,
Then leads a nun to a microphone for prayer.

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