Vincent and I

April 07, 2014

Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh

Public Domain - Wikimedia Commons

Those that know me well, know that I have loved Vincent Van Gogh since childhood. As a little girl, I believed that Starry Night was painted for me. No one could dissuade me of this fact.

So as an adult poet/writer, it is not surprising that often my work become entwined with his. Here are a few examples for your reading pleasure.

Alive with Color

Like Vincent, I too am “alive with color.”
With the artist’s eyes,
I see the purple dark,
Brightened by spiraling gold light.
No monochrome existence -
No shade of gray subsistence.
I am a tropical village, alive
With turquoise and salmon,
Buttercup and lilac -
Tones of singing color -
Unafraid of my rainbow palate life,
I paint the world!

Linda M. Rhinehart Neas © 2014

Vincent’s Sky

In a life, long before now,
you painted swirling lines of fire,
scattered across a landscape
of purple and blue.
Your palate alive with opposites -
Your brush creating words
only the heart could read.

Gifted master of untouched space,
did you journey into the void
in order to bring me this canvas
filled with waking dreams –
filled with illusory hopes -
filled with the nomadic contemplations
of a mind whirling into illusion?

Linda M. Rhinehart Neas © 2014

FOR VINCENT
Your work forms
a kaleidoscope of emotions -
Sunflower joy
illuminates the soul,
While,
alone,
like a white iris
in a sea of blue,
You stand -
the sweetness of your soul
hidden by the masses.
The beauty of your touch
fills blank space
with whirling stars of light -
winding through the groves of humanity.
You capture images of light and dark,
space and form -
only to free them on canvases
of perpetual vision.

Linda M. Rhinehart Neas © York, ME 2000

VINCENT

I was just a girl
      when first we met.
Your blazing Sunflower mornings
   and
       Starry, Starry Nights
filled my imagination -

You took me
      far from the brick
and pavement of the city-

You opened
      the door to dreams.

I was just grown
      when first I stood
deep within the Olive Groves.

Quiet conversations
       on the Terrace Café at Night -
             wind swept mountains
and winding paths
led me home -
to you.
© Linda M. Rhinehart Neas York, ME 1996