I think I know why Van Gogh painted
Driven mad
By sky blue brush strokes
Fields of golden wheat
And faces needing
Relief spread across a canvas
Desire in those colors he carried
No comfort found
But still –
The trying
A precious thing to get it right
And try again
If he could only know
The madness gave us so much more
Than Vincent’s pain
His mangled ear
Starry nights and sunflowers
Wild strokes of iris petal purples
Delicate almond blossoms
Letters to Theo of hopes and dreams
Expressed and understood
By those who follow in
The passion of his paints
In our own mad desires
Brush in hand
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