Van Gogh pervades the air
Mounds of color
Broad free strokes
Freedom unleashed
I look at his work
I look at mine
Starry Night
Am I an extension?
A continuation
In the process
Toward a final goal?
Toward freedom?
Removing the shackles of history
Preventing in his lifetime
The glories remaining unsung
Canvasses unpainted
A chance encounter with fate
And yet I watch
As my hand swiftly crosses the canvass
And I wonder
Would I be here?
Would we all be here?
Are our lives enriched
By his struggle?
Do I face a blank, white canvass
With his eyes?
Do his shadows become mine?
Does the light reflect
As he saw in Arles,
Transcending time?
Enigma
Un-defined
Holding the ghost of reality
Penetrating timeless vacuums
Unable to escape
Unwanting to escape
Unanswered questions
Of metamorphosis
Of passion and devotion
Passed through the ionosphere
Permeating the atmosphere
Filling the crevasses of his life
Of our lives
Of my hand and eyes
Seeing his brush-strokes come alive
Transmutations founded at the precipice
Of a cliff’s edge
To linger in other hands
In my hands
Holding a brush
Dripping color
Blown by the winds of time
Inheritance
The future untold
Perseverance
Preoccupation
Permanence
A legacy of searching
Fulfilled in eternity
In a single drop
Of color

11/20/18