'I greet you, Mary, Lady full of grace
For God is with you' - at this sign
She looks the deferential stranger in the face
And pauses in the reading of her line.
She contemplates the blessing he extends,
The perfect spray of lilies, and the wings;
And wonders what it is that he intends
And whether to rejoice at what he brings.
The angel's voice falls faint across the flowers
And Mary loses track of what he means -
As in the space between, spring up the towers
Of money, power, learning and machines.
If holiness takes second place to art
Can even angels reach the human heart?