Met a wise man once,
Not a chiseled, silver beard monk,
But a weathered limping man.
A prophet he started to narrate a tale,
Not a saga of god and ablutions
Nor sordid scripture of poverty around
Standing majestic on the banks of holy river
He whispered softly in my ears
listen to the melody of the flowing water
Touch the humility of the trees
Feel the burden of the Mother Earth
Enjoy the seven colors of rainbow above
Tell me about God, if you a saint?
Mischievous he started to laugh,
So he spoke the words of wisdom,
A hypnotizing look and calm demeanor,
God painted on the canvas of nature
A beautiful portrait of you my child
The first word of God is Adam,
The last word of Adam is God
God can not exist without man,
For creation is the master of creator my lord.
Stupefied I stood on the holy bank,
As prophet knelt and kissed my hands.
19 thoughts on “The Prophet”
Great post, well written
Thanks a lot, I am glad you liked. Take care and have a great week ahead.
Thank you same to you too.
Absolutely love this!! Brilliant!!
Good morning Bill, thanks a lot for your appreciation and kind words. Have a blissful week ahead.
My pleasure! Same to you!
Wow. The first word of God is Adam and Adam’s last word is God. Brilliant.
I am glad you liked it Shantanu, blessings upon you and may you and your family have beautiful week. 🙂
Thanks for the beautiful thought. Have a great week
You are welcome
An amazing and deeply beautiful poem.
Thanks a lot I am gla you like it, have a wonderful week ahead!
Beautifully written, Tanya!
Full of wisdom and of course with your personal touch.
Thanks a lot Sunil, I am humbled by your kind words. Take care
You are welcome and taking care of myself is one of the joys of my life. So 😊.