Hues Of Peace

Ah, is that me, under that tree
Next to ” the boy by the water ”
As Paul Gaugin looks on with avuncular warmth
At the child of his creation?
Filled with elation
I freely flit
And invisibly sit
Along with the hidden butterflies in Van Gogh’s ” flowering garden “.
Ah safe haven
In a state of trance,
I inhale the fragrance
And watch the butterflies dance
Green, white, black and blue
Who has turned me into a butterfly I have no clue.
Then again I flutter to ” a corner of the garden at Montgeron ”
Where Claude Monet watches from the shadows, trees swaying
A smile on his lips merrily playing.
He beckons me in his unique style
I follow him, yet another mile
Unquestioning I tow along with him to the ” Tulip fields at Sassenheim ”
He takes me to the ” Waves breaking ” ,
which thrash the rocks and serenade them with their soothing strokes
Flaunting their depth glassy , and music classy.
Ah, is that ” the magpie ” of 1868
Solitary and black perched on a gate,
While the light of the sun colors the freshly fallen snow in hues of blue.
To a wonderful clime
Has it traveled in time?
Then towards the ” lane with poplars ” I head
Happy my tread
Ah, has Van Gogh reappeared ?
With one stroke of the versatile brush
All these colors coalesce and merge
And on my mind converge
I am transported to my homeland Kashmir.
To float with the clouds,
Roll with the pebbles ,sway with the poplars
luxuriating in the feel of the mustard field
Happy at the rich yield
The tulips laugh and sway
And greet these painters
Who in the days of yore had probably visited Kashmir in their dreams
Now they are here for real, it seems
To paint their masterpiece
With the sublime hues of peace.

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About Santosh

An educationist with a passion for writing , having published some novels for young adults, some essays and some poems. My poetic biography of Mahatma Gandhi will soon be published .

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