Meeting Jesus Poem by Not Long Left

Like Disciples we sat around the table
into our books we threw our attentions.

Jesus positioned himself deep into his
chair, his eyes glazed by the pain of

universal knowing, remained in deep
reflection. Doctor Anula remarked on

our leaders predictions, a mere nod
of aknowledgment sent us into a writing

frenzy. The sound of paper turning
startled the silent one, drops of sweat

travelled down his face, lingering over
each feature. Thanking him for his

time, he left drifitng through door, and
page. We murmured silent concern.