“If I am worth anything later, I am worth something now. For wheat is wheat, even if people think it is a grass in the beginning.” – Vincent Van Gogh
An unfinished poem lies in the lines of his palm;
earthy and ambiguous
it frequently invokes the muse which like the river is otherwise brimming,
emerald blue rippling,
indomitable with a hope to induce— there is no denying it,
his essence is that of wheat,
of fields laden with eternity in each turn of the breeze.
The sweet, rich brown
a breathless possibility that he might be “he,” is heavenly.
But oh! Blackness encircles like the arms of a cypress tree,
just as dark days are inevitable, they are necessary—
mournful pebbles pry and I clutch my heart,
he’s the song I sing when everything seems to be falling apart.
Subtly pink, his lips put the sunrise to shame,
without touching
he beckons the soul and moves in as silently as a blown kiss;
and I lie here
envisioning him under a different sky during the early hours of night—
at a point where edges are blurred by infinite longing,
I inveigle sleep and sigh; “for wheat is wheat.”
Photo credits: Vincent Van Gogh, Wheat Field with Cypresses
Posted for Poetics: Waiting on Wheat @ dVerse Poets Pub
22 Responses
I specially love this line:
The sweet, rich brown
a breathless possibility that he might be “he,” is heavenly.
The waiting seems agonizing but worth the wait, I believe.
Definitely worth it! Thank you so much, Grace 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
“fields laden with eternity with each turn of the breeze” … magical use of words!
Thank you so much, Beverly 🙂 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
I love the photo, the quote you chose, and how you revived the artistry of the man with your poem. Such a lovely tribute, Sanaa.
Thank you so much, Lisa 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Oh Sanaa this is so touching. Beautiful lines! I particularly loved
“….there is no denying it,
his essence is that of wheat,
of fields laden with eternity in each turn of the breeze.”
Well done!
Thank you so much, Christine 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
Your title/opening line is so tantalising, Sanaa. I especially love the lines:
‘his essence is that of wheat,
of fields laden with eternity in each turn of the breeze.
The sweet, rich brown
a breathless possibility that he might be “he,” is heavenly’,
the play on breeze and breath, and the way you incorporated words from the van Gogh quotation.
Thank you so much, Kim 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Oh. That conclusion felt like all the wait is worth it. Your title is so so so true, too! Love this, Sanaa!
Thank you so much, Rosemarie 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
(and thank you for the glorious prompt) 🌹
Gorgeous!
❤️❤️❤️
This is absolutely beautiful! One of my favorite lines is, “he’s the song I sing when everything seems to be falling apart”
Thank you so much, Jenna 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
I always find myself sighing at your words, Sanaa….this time I revel in the Van Gogh painting you’ve chosen and in his words as well!
I have always adored Van Gogh’s work! One of my favorite artists.
Thank you so much, Lillian 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
This is so wonderful… and all that anticipation makes the waiting worth it.
Thank you so much, Bjorn 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
Subtly pink, his lips put the sunrise to shame,
without touching
he beckons the soul and moves in as silently as a blown kiss;
and I lie here
A very sweet feeling here….
Thank you so much, Dwight 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️