A NEW BEGINNING: Envisioning Thoughts

In linking poetry, the final words of the previous poem are used to form the title of the next poem. In  Another New Beginning, the final words of Smiling Back, the second poem, are:

 

Above the clouds

endless open skies

ease me from the past; with

lazy eagerness, promises appear

of another new beginning.

 

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3

A New Beginning

A white-washed canvas,

still life with fireworks,

promises of an exciting display. 

Colors intended only for dreamers

burst before her eyes,

lighting up the blackness left by

a long forgotten sunset. 

A zig-zag of red, stars

too bright to track

spiral down.

She hears the sizzle as

they strike the ocean’s surface

like lava streaming from a cliff

to cool and form new land. 

Thoughts spew forth.

A mind once fallow

now overflows.

A rocket launch

of crackling practicality

explodes to reveal stunning possibilities.

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This poem is my description of how a writer’s mind envisions thoughts. The writer and artist become one in their ability to imagine the intangible and then successfully illustrate their ideas through various mediums. 

An artist stands before a blank canvas; the writer stares at a blank page. Both envision what is needed to fill that emptiness. Those who success, make their thoughts tangible. The process turns still life into fireworks, while stagnant ideas crackle into action. 

I’ve always thought of colors in terms of taste. The color orange, to me, is actually sherbet ice cream or Nehi soda pop. Purple is plums from Gramma’s garden, big-bottomed eggplants sizzling in melted butter - the sound reminding me of the yellow of mild cheeses or lemon meringue pie. Green conjures up the taste of prickly-skinned cucumbers sliced and swimming in sour cream, cabbage leaves, and Granny Smith apples. Red means juicy tomatoes, ripe bell peppers, and little candy “red-hots.” 

The color blue leaves more of a visual impression. I see Van Gogh’s starry night, Monet’s lily pond, or one of Hawaiian artist Wyland’s 60+ international Whaling Walls. I see ocean surrounding the peninsula of Kalaupapa; the souls off-shore of Ka’ena Point; blackened sky over heads of night marchers. 

What do you see? 

 

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