Flower Beds in Holland 1883 - Vincent Van Gogh
Memorial
I tread through sounds of yesteryear
hearing voices that still belong.
Wind carries cries muffled by tears
like rushing light on petal's dew
fluttering as their ghosts pass near.
Light archaic reveals anew
holiness wrapped in remembrance
Life's gentle garden reconstrued.
Copyright 2009 JO Janoski
This poem is so gentle and peaceful.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, JO... I thank you for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteThe photo is spring like in colors!
ReplyDeleteA melancholy poem with nice rhyme!
Enjoyed Jo!
Your blog, today, revived a cherished memory. Sometime back in the late 1950s, a dear friend asked me to go along with her to view a Van Gogh exhibition in the Philadelphia museum. I felt so honored. That was the evening I discovered she had been going through some sort of a mental crisis and needed me to lean on. I was, back then, such a country bumpkin. She was so gifted, a graduate from a famous women's college and lived in the only "mansion" in the area.
ReplyDeleteI don't remember seeing the painting you chose, but I do remember standing in awe within touching distance of others, which of course I never did and never would, but to be so close was an unforgetable experience.
Jeeves, Bob, and Jo, thank you! Mary, I'm so jealous. I would give anything to see an original Van Gogh. I missed the exhibit years ago when it came through Pittsburgh.
ReplyDeleteJo, I'm not a connoisseur of fine art, but the structure and symmetry of the garden does seem odd for Van Gogh. Oh how I wish my 'life's garden' was as orderly.
ReplyDeleteDan,
ReplyDeleteYou and me, both. But I'm sure that beautiful order didn't last long for Van Gogh.