Vangogh’s woe

I thought once,
to dance in a field
of Sunflowers with someone
meant that we owned
that painting forever.
But we do not.
The scene painted us,
as it paints all of the others
who dance at sunset,
holding them captive by her brilliant brush strokes.
They are acrylic trespassers into the
lines of gold in
our holy experience.
All things that we have lived,
were only borrowed paintings.
We do not create love after all.
Love always creates us
and puts us on display in her
proudest and most humble


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s