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Smallest of Places

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view-of-the-church-of-saint-paul-de-mausole-1889

 

 

I find green in the smallest of places. It is not the mountain covered in triangular repetition of perfect pine that makes my heart flutter. It is not the river, churned and murky or hills that roll in shades of emerald and jade. It is the single blade of grass between my thumbs, tickling my lips as I blow gently through cupped hands. My eyes wander to the delicate veins of magnolia leaves as tiny aphids make their delicate climb. I reach to touch the green of neon moss blankets warming tree limbs, fallen and forgotten. I follow green in the iridescent glow of dragonfly wings dancing over the shallows. I cherish the green of tiny strawberries weaving on trellises, patiently waiting to ripen. As cerulean skies and yellow meadows magically merge in van Gogh’s “View of the Church of Saint-Paul-de-Mausole, I will still find green in the smallest of places.

 

 

Lost in fields of green
Four leaf clover at our feet
Gently we must walk

 

Written for Haibun Monday at dVerse Poet’s Pub. We have been inspired by the work of Vincent van Gogh.

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15 responses »

  1. Thank you for this magical exploration of green.

    Reply
  2. Beautiful … van Gogh’s art, your narration and poetry, all of it! 🙂

    Reply
  3. I love how you have focusd on green, the color that seem to be missing in th painting. Especially how you focus on the details of the blades and moss.. Wonderful and thanks for joining,

    Reply
  4. There is beauty to be seen in the grandeur of mountains…and in the blade of grass. Delightful write! Indeed, beauty surrounds us if we but take the time to see it!

    Reply
  5. You have the eyes for nature’s delicate details here – love in the green grass, moss & butterfly ~

    Terrific haibun, thanks for sharing ~

    Reply
  6. And ’tis the same
    for Whitman’s
    leaves of grass
    and for me a grain
    of sand a letter or
    number to find the
    Universe of one
    in the smallest
    and largest
    sane..

    Trees of grass
    leaves last
    grow forest..:)

    Reply
  7. Green is peaceful, serene…like your gentle haibun. Good to find beauty in small things (and to be able to make a grass blade whistle)!

    Reply
  8. Ahhh the little green hill…when I think of Van Gogh I think of golden yellow; his stars, his sunflowers, his fields.. this was lovely.

    Reply
  9. Snakypoet (Rosemary Nissen-Wade)

    What a lovely concept, and how sweetly expressed.

    Reply

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