“Portrait of a Prophet,” Friend, Aug. 2010, 10
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.