Upon Gazing At The Cut Sunflowers Of Vincent Van Gogh

upon seeing the cut sunflowers of vincent van gogh
i cannot but think about the tragic moment when
he cut his ear, when blood oozed
when at the end, finally he took his life away,

this thing happens when one knows much about
the life of another
this familiarity that breeds contempt,

and so gazing again at the painting of vincent,
i start with real sunflowers in my mind, the one that mother
planted in her garden when she was alive,
i think of the sun and the sunshine touching my face
i think about warmth and life and oozing verve
the vivacity of all things around my little world,
the field of sunflowers and the bees and the butterflies
and birds

i pretend i have not read about the life of vincent
i pretend i have not heard about the stories of mother

i just gaze again at the cut sunflowers. just that.
now there is joy in my heart. The suicide story does not exist
in the bold yellow petals, on those three huge sunflowers

look at them again, they are the symbols of our smiles.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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