I am immersed

As are so many others

Mesmerized by the many colors

I wonder how many times that man rehearsed

Faces, a skeleton, flowers, fields

The moon, the night

Is short-lived beauty all it yields

Creation’s glory in his sight

But I wonder what was in his mind

He said God he could do without

But not the power to create

Strange that a man with such skill

Became his very own fate

The slideshow now continues

So many short strokes

Lots of faces

What became of those blokes

The delicate flowers, so immaculate, pull me in

Red, yellow, white

Was blue his favorite

My retina can’t quite comprehend

I wonder what inspired that starry night

Was it the sanctuary where he found himself

Or nature itself

He created, like God

What compelled him to make

In what image are we made

Either way, I’m glad he did paint

Ending it was, in the world’s opinion, a terrible mistake