Portrait of a Warrior Poet

His face, the poet's face
tells the story of a peace unprecedented,
a sorrow unequalled.
His eyes are sorrowful, yet knowledgeable, inquisitive.
They seem to ask a question unanswerable,
and at the same moment, answer a question unaskable.
Above his full white beard
rests a pleasant half smile which seems to be
relaying a message of hope as if to say,
“We'll make it. We'll make it!”
His skin is tanned and weathered,
and his shoulders are broad and rounded,
seemingly capable of further labours
in the valleys and in the fields,
by the sea shore and on the mountain peaks.
His countenance speaks of adventure and solitude,
of spiritual testing upon spiritual testing.
There is an aura of determination surging from his depths
which seems to be proclaiming
the right of truth
at all costs,
at all costs,
He seems to possess the spirit of a just man,
along the path, upon the journey to being made perfect.
It appears that the hand of God is moulding this man's very being
and it appears that this man is willing to be molded.
I believe that Jesus is his elder brother.

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