Contrast Canvas

(image poetry: image prompt)

A nostalgic breeze blows by, as I am tucked away in a memory so long ago

I wonder if it was another time, another life and me, another person

Amber embers made of clay in a corner, a silhouette with a shadow yellow

And me right under as I crane my neck, to look at the canvas above

The canvas spoke vividly of the Amazons, the colors in such symphony

Penthesiliea on her way to Troy for Priam, amidst dark clouds and a moonless sky

I recall my teacher and her twinkling eyes, when I narrated to her what I saw

For a girl barely eleven painted a graphic war from stick figures that hung on the wall

She smiled and her dimples caused a flutter in my chest, as she whispered in my ear

Dear girl, you heart saunters in hallways where bricks are made of fantasy

As for your mind, it flies free in the boundless sky, never to touch the ground.

The breeze suddenly ceased and so it seems, did my little rendezvous with the past

I smile to myself for how right she was, as I gaze at my head in the sky with the birds

Little did I know, so long ago, even the boundless had their bounds

The deeper I dived in the deep blue hue, less were the chances to fly over clouds.

This mind of mine, as fast it works, just searches for a home

A home to rest, a home to be, just you and me

Up in the sky it roams alone, for even the birds go down at noon

As for my mind, as it tries to halt itself, sees demons lurking in the clouds

I want it to stop, for once at least, just see what is right in front

but is it what it is that it seems to be or it too, a figment of someone else’s imagination

As I’m up in the sky I feeling forlorn, misunderstood and melancholic

I look down at a little lonely boat happily flowing towards an island

Great, now even the boat has a place, surrounded by blue and green

A coconut tree, a mellow breeze, soft fresh grass and summer heat.

I cannot help but think to myself, how lucky the island is

Static and stagnant at a definite place, hosting new visitors everyday

This must be bliss, no wavering heart, no demons or damsels envisaged

Serene and still, the absolute best, pure tranquility with every breath.

I look at the island and wish so hard my teacher and I never met

My mind would have seen what the world has shown and my heart would have stayed in bed

The little green island would never know sleepless nights, monsters under your couch

Or when he says goodbye, I think he’ll never return the conspiracy in every lie

I wish all those years ago, I had only seen, the baseless black stick figures

For if I did I could have possibly been the little green island in paradise.

From down below the island shakes and the humongous beast right under

looks above with his wayward heart after centuries of being so still.

Everyday he wakes up, but he’s been dead and gone a long time

For his heart doesn’t bleed and his mind so numb, never saw Penthesilea in the canvas.

Everyday for the rest of his life, he wishes that he saw more

More than just what the world had shown, for it always ran way beyond

Stagnant and still it wishes everyday, it never had to have a home

For he chose to have one, all those years ago and has been shackled and chained ever since

He wishes he could see demons and damsels and stay up all night long

Fly with the birds and soar in the sky, while strutting in made up hallways.

my heart aches with pain for I yearn to be where I am not

and so does his, concealed below for he hopes he never entered the blue waters

both him and me, we look for home while we’ve been there all the while

but neither does he know and nor do I, for we’re both too busy hoping we lied about the canvas.