Portrait

An old man peers into a box.

His scruffy beard, sharp nose and glasses

Remind the observer of  a Vermeer portrait,

“Old Man at His Desk” could be the painting’s name.

It is a dim and silent  scene

With an unnatural light emanating from the box.

He turns his head, his ancient eyes inquire of my presence,

And I am returned to 2009.

His attention is drawn back to the computer screen

And I am aware of testaments; phone, electric light,

Solidifying my hold on contemporary reality.

Still, the artists studio, the smell of the paint, remain.

Facial lines mark his journey

In his eyes a strong belief

In the need for further study

As he ponders the screen’s message.

Often I have sat looking into

A face painted by a knowledgeable artist

Intent on exposing his subject’s

Implacable craving to understand.

400 years fall away as mere layers of diaphanous lace.

I recognize the timeless, universal expression

That marks man as involved and  insatiable,

Forever searching.