Gabe Bondoc
"Now I Know"
The artist stares into the canvas,
freshly unwrapped, a crisp linen sheet.
Brush and palette are primed and ready.
In the hazy distance,
unclear and out-of-focus,
she sees the striking features of an unfamiliar face,
she sees a scarlet rose petal sleep on the surface of an unfamiliar lake.
She twirls the brush expertly in her right hand,
and tousles the bristles with her thumb.
She closes her left eye and squints at the canvas with her right, grinning.
This face, and this petal,
She brings them closer,
and observes them.
With a precise flick of her wrist,
she begins a very difficult,
a very sensuous choreography.
With every permanent, irrevocable stroke of the brush,
she comes closer to her subjects,
patiently, longingly asking them for a dance.
Soon, as the acrylic streaks do testify,
she no longer sees a faraway face,
but the comely countenance of a familiar man.
Eyebrows perched in contented inquiry,
the skin on his forehead, creased with thought.
He stares out from the canvas, and sees her peering back.
His disciplined face, though unchanged,
now smiles.
The sleepy rose petal, lying contentedly,
light, lazy, and unworried,
awakens,
startled by her company.
So small, this petal.
It’s hopes and dreams seemingly irrelevant,
yet so beautiful in its own right.
She picks up the petal,
now her close friend,
and waits for a breeze.
And, as the gust arrives,
she lets go;
The rose petal happily
jumps off her palm,
out of the canvas,
into the sky.
She smiles at the man;
she smiles at the scarlet rose petal,
now just a faded pink speck in the distance.
She takes a breath,
unwraps a canvas,
brush and palette, primed and ready.
Grinning, she begins again.
-
afr0 posted this
