Annunciation The Workshop of Campin painted it best – my absorption in a shrouded book implicit requirement that the angel’s message be worthy of my time. A little spoiler alert hovering just above the left wing. In a different era I would have been the girl with a microscope in her room ready to scrutinize a frost of cells in order to comprehend the enormity of what was being asked. I would have filled notebooks with my wrangling, tried to capture the rushing sound, not quite wind, not quite wings, voice recorder in hand, a ghosthunter, so I could later play it back and play it back to hear the words beneath the static. Divinity gives us no waivers to sign. It’s all or nothing, no meeting halfway. So I would have insisted, and did, on full disclosure. How, exactly. When. What I should have asked was why. Isabel Cristina Legarda Isabel Cristina Legarda was born in the Philippines and spent her early childhood there before moving to the U.S. She is currently a practicing physician in Boston. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Cleaver, America, Ruminate, The New York Quarterly, and others. She can be found on Instagram: @poetintheOR.
2 Comments
Sheila A Murphy
1/29/2024 08:26:51 am
I LOVED your poem on the Annunciation. I loved the mind-wrestling with the Angel, the attention to the all-or-nothing and the affirmation of your own character and method. I especially liked that you didn't ask why. WHAT always seems more important to me.
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Lea Bowie
1/29/2024 03:12:17 pm
Just beautiful and, by golly different. Dont expect less of this author. I know her.
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