During that season when he had prayed
Each morning upon rising from his bed,
he was called regularly and abruptly to the mirror.

Each morning, the same lesson:
from within the prayer's discipline,
he knew that the face was a deception,
that the mirror was at fault.

In those days
he would go at once to paint and brush
to make himself upon mauve cloth.
At first his soul would appear
near the brackish surface, and
his face would come out flat and drawn.

Over time, after prayer, the face on canvas
came out of a great depth,
a rare great whale from
a kind of interior pool of reserve peace,
deep and full of mystery,
to breathe.

On those days--such as the 5th of May, 1989--
the canvas met his brush in sweetest pleasure.
He yielded control, gave himself over to something
so deep within him, something so true,
so much himself.

Then his face would be delta-shaped; his features
like ages, rich with meaning, passion, his eyes
knowing fire.

But, over time,
after some plain days,
during which he ate mere bread
and drank ordinary wine,

The season of prayer passed, and
he returned to befriend the mirror.
 

James Bolner, Sr
December, 1993
Baton Rouge, LA