When I walked into my son's room,
Jimmy was busy at his desk,
Drawing something, I did presume
Would surely be quite picturesque.
The great works of my 3 year old
Hung throughout the house in array,
For all who walked through to behold.
My Da Vinci - what can I say?
'Jimmy, what are you drawing now? '
I asked, and my son looked at me,
And said, 'I am drawing God.' Wow!
So I replied, seriously,
'But, no one knows what God looks like.'
'You will when I'm done, ' said my tyke.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem