This is one in a series on the Annunciation with one in a forbidden folder in the encyclopedia
Pregnant Paradox:
Picardo’s Anunciación
in the Prado
A hint of heaven is all there is in her
Apparel. Darker it could hardly be,
So bleak you almost have to wish, infer
The indigo in shadows where you see
The actual truth: that blackness is the fact
Touched here and there with gray that’s nearly blue.
Perchance the angel’s ribboned words diffract
The darkness of the earth with what is true.
Too matronly this Mary, more perhaps
Prophetic than a capturing of youth,
But when some winged oracle sets its traps,
It maybe finds we don’t want all the truth.
yoThe dove in an egg and an empty bed
yoyoPredict this birth, colored angel-wing red.