Vincent Van Gogh 35 - A New Born Artiste Poem by Geeta Radhakrishna Menon

On a November lazy afternoon,
Vincent went out for a walk,
Along the fields towards the Marcasse.
He found an old rusty iron wheel and sat on it.
He was devoid of any thoughts or feelings,
Neither did he have any plans or any specific goal.
He watched an old miner coming out of the gate,
His black cap covering half of his face,
His hands pushed into his pockets, looking down,
With a hunched back and tottering bent knees.
Something about the sad figure of the old miner
Attracted Vincent. A sudden impulse prompted him!

His fingers itched to draw this figure!
Make a quick sketch of the old miner,
Walking out of the mine, forlorn, exhausted,
Sad, with a heavily burdened look.
He put his hand into his pocket, pulled out
A small pencil, but there was no paper.
He dug into his pocket once more, and
Found a letter from his father. He began
To quickly sketch on the back of the envelope.
There was an empty space inside too.
Before the miner walked far away,
Vincent managed to capture this figure in the letter.

Then, another miner walked out.
He was younger, taller, walking with his chin up,
He looked confident, unlike the earlier, old miner.
Vincent got more time to sketch this figure,
As he walked in a different direction,
Along the rail tracks until he disappeared.
Strange is this life on earth!
When you remain empty headed, blank,
The mystical cosmos!
Suddenly, fills you with a purpose,
Guides you with a ray of light,
Leads you through a meaningful path!

Vincent impressed with his own new awakening
Rushed back to the Denises', found many sheets of paper
And a thick pencil too. He put his rough sketches
On the table and began copying them into the paper.
His hands were a bit shaky as he sketched the miners.
He had to use the eraser several times before he got
The right angle, figure, head and face of the miners.
He got so engrossed in his drawing that he did not notice
The time clicking away until Madam Denise knocked at his door.
Vincent joined the Denises for the evening supper.
The Denises noticed a change, a gleam in Vincent's eyes.
Something had stirred, ignited deep within the new born artiste!

Biographical Poem!