Portrait of a Prophet

Clean white paper on the table,

Sharpened pencil in my hand,

I said a prayer within my heart,

Breathed deep, and began.

I started with his eyes,

Trying not to miss a wrinkle.

They revealed his spirit’s youth,

Friendly with a twinkle.

Light reflected on his nose,

Which I tried to capture.

But his greatest light was within,

Drawn by the Master.

A gentle smile formed

At the corners of his mouth.

When the prophet speaks, I’ll listen;

His words I’ll never doubt.