As Dawn swept her chariot across the gray skies of the morning,
I sat before my easel, blank and unadulterated as my mind
My eyes skimming the sunrise, my pencils at the ready.
I wanted to capture the virgin beauty of the Sun,
The dazzling grandeur of her form,
And her soft ascension into the azure blanket of the sky.
So I bent forward and my first stroke captured an eye
The lead in my finger fleshed out the clean lines of the orb
Bringing to life the warmth that welled within
The twinkle therein that spoke of a thousand things.
Just like the morning dew upon the greenery beside me,
The eye glistened, its sweetness duplicated on the other side
Twin pools of compassion that beckoned on the beholder
With an intensity that assured me that the sun
Was slowly coming to life on that page on my easel.
My hand moved and the sweeping lines of the nose took shape
That bridge that hung archly beneath the eyes
Fastened with symmetry that flowed to the mouth below;
Guiding my pencil to form those thick erotic pouty loads,
Lips with the tilt of a smile that made my heart stop
Lips that swelled with the promise of passion and pleasure
With the presence of a newborn on my drawing paper;
Maneuver through them and you see the ivory white towers
That border an orifice of ecstatic desires;
And then, of its own accord, my hand moved in broad strokes
Brushing out the dark tresses that tumbled down in waves,
A crown of locks so fine it streamed like a hirsute waterfall
Kissed to a sweet disorder by the breeze that flitted by
Veiling, beneath its cloud of ebony mist, the flushed cheeks
And all the sultriness wrought by my pencil
That this figure may wear her finest ornament falling free and unfettered.
Thence all these features came together to frame within
The supple glory of the most queen-like face,
This gamine visage held in check with a wanton grace.
I was filled with reverence even as I traced its edges
And I understood how God must have felt on the day of creation
For this illustration of mystery I knew with the most intimacy
This one beautiful face in a sole halo of light.
Then I realized the sun I’d drawn was nothing like the golden ball above
For now that it’s risen, it blazed down with a ferocity that repelled me.
Nay! The sun on my canvass shone with a warmth
A depth of beauty that drew me in
A mass of brilliance that lit the caucus of my heart;
The sun I’d captured was You – a beauty unadorned and unsullied
Every line, every stroke, every brush was the sun I captured – just the way you are.