Poetry Drawer: The Art of Seeing: Memory of Hope: Eyes of the Painter by Bobbi Sinha-Morey

The Art of Seeing

In the aroma of Madeira in
a glass and the incense of
tallow she finds her muse
in the day’s snug sunshine,
painting the birth of a wren
by hand, her heart trembling,
coming alive, she’s not too far
away from the white blossoms
of dogwood trees, and she calls
her craft the art of seeing,
examining the world around
her like an artist with a keen
eye capturing animal life like
she did the blackbird in flight,
wings all aflutter eclipsing
the sun, the oak and eagle as
her witness. Everyday her life
is opened up and with the fine
strokes of her paintbrush she
sparks a red flower to dance
brightly, illumines the tiny
movements of a butterfly
climbing the window glass,
sunlight glowing in its wings

Memory of Hope

Raindrops danced on the red
brick terrace and rippled
the surface of the cerulean
birdbath, my world never
silent as I listen to the rhythmic
tap of rain on my window, on
the patio table; the memory of
hope I thought I may never know
again, a soft-born light I wished
would revise itself inside of me,
nudge its synergy with the god
in heaven to make me want to
live again, a potent reminder that
without hope it’s too easy to give
up and die. My spirit shyly opened
when autumn’s shower outside
slowly came to an end, leaving
behind a luminous rainbow aura
on my bedroom wall.

Eyes of the Painter

Elation swirls inside his heart
come the half rising dawn
when he undoes his tangled
layers of thought and lets
the life all around him spill
from the tip of his paintbrush
onto the canvas, a garden
brimful of visual delights
living inside him in the rains
of November, driven by his
visions and the taste of tea
leaves on his tongue; every
arc of colour, every exquisite
detail pure as the beauty of
an early snow. In his eyes he
steals from a childhood memory,
the plumb feathers of a peacock;
and a quiet healing in the inner
layers of his heart calm him while
he is alone for hours, the sound
of a symphony on his stereo
drifting in from the music room.
One day he finds himself growing
blind and when his eyesight is
gone he longs to paint what he
sees in his dreams.

Bobbi Sinha-Morey‘s poetry has appeared in a wide variety of places such as Plainsongs, Pirene’s Fountain, The Wayfarer, Helix Magazine, Miller’s Pond, The Tau, Vita Brevis, Cascadia Rising Review, Old Red Kimono, and Woods Reader. Her books of poetry are available at Amazon and her work has been nominated for Best of the Net Anthology in 2015, 2018, and 2020, as well as having been nominated for The Pushcart Prize in 2020. 

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