The Portrait


The portrait of my Father,
Fairly takes my breath away,
It overpowers my whole being,
I am in awe of its display.

The eyes are hypnotizing,
I can't pull mine away,
I feel I'm being drawn in,
I am compelled to stay.

They penetrate my very soul,
I am transparent ... I am bare,
I cannot hide myself from them,
They are on me everywhere.


I feel a sense of shame,
When I try to meet His eye,
I want to say I'm sorry,
I was the reason that He died.

As I study that fine face,
And I think about man's sin,
I beg forgiveness on my knees,
For the pain we've put Him in.

So young, so vibrant, so sanctified,
A face that radiates,
I shield myself ... the Light's too bright,
Too aureate and great.


Within that very portrait,
Are many men, I find,
A mother's son, a father's son,
A Savior of mankind.

I see serenity and patience,
I see strength, I see endurance,
I see comfort, I see care,
And I see a Blest Assurance.

I feel so insignificant,
In the presence of the King,
I cannot gaze upon that face,
Without a humbling.


His countenance ... magnificent,
Quite beyond my comprehension,
I'm truly awed, indeed, by God,
So overwhelmed by His dimension.

By that portrait of my Lord,
I have wholly been engulfed,
I have never known in all my years,
Such an overpowering love.


That portrait's more than just a picture,
It is an affirmation of God's grace,
It's a holy inspiration,
And a confirmation of man's faith.

~ Virginia Ellis ~
Copyright 2000

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