by Richard Vince

The paper is streaked with tears
Given colour and form by
A sympathetic brush, resolving
Themselves into a beautiful world.

By looking inside, the painter’s eye
Sees beyond the mess of the world
To a beautiful, calm, sunlit place
That can never be disturbed
By what lives and dies outside.

In vague, impressionistic strokes
It all becomes clear: there will
Always be beauty and love
If we relax eyes and hearts
And let them enter.


Posted on 10/24/2021
Copyright © 2022 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 11/01/21 at 07:00 PM

A much needed positive view and how to deal with what's been going on around us.

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