Russian Orthodox Monk Poem by Eli Spivakovsky

I once met a Russian Orthodox monk
Near the Pavillion in Jerusalem.
I asked him if I could take his picture.
He said, "No pictures" with the accent giving him away
He had a hood, robes, and a black leather belt.

He was resplendent and more beautiful
then even some of Jerusalem's birds.

I wondered if had become more beautiful
when he decided not to share it with women -
the day he got his hood.

I wondered if his beauty grew in private prayer
when no one is watching you.

I wondered if he became a monk so women
would be jealous of God
instead of God being jealous of them.