Poetry – The Painting

Spark of passion, are you within me?
Do you take physical space in our universe?
Was it only my heart you touched on that day?
Do you belong to me, to the art, or the universe?

I stood looking while she pulled me into her life.
I could not see her face, yet I wanted her story
The bubble of pity and sadness quickly grew
within my physical and emotional being.

I felt love for the young girl in the painting
and for the artist by whom I now felt touched.
No one will ever know. I must hide my feelings.
I look – am I being watched? Am I a foolish old man?

Emotionally attached in a short minute to a girl
with no face, with no name. With what test
in life was she faced that day? Children do not
belong in such places, alone, with no advocate.

In the passionate grasp of this Duende, my soul
rose to my mind and flooded emotion into my heart
for the girl who I never knew, that child, will be
with me for the rest of my life. A painting.

Bill Reynolds

Look both ways, but you’ll not see the Duende enter you.
Enjoy the experience, but mind the gaps.

2 thoughts on “Poetry – The Painting

  1. Beautiful poem, Bill. Now I’m curious about this painting, but I’ve experienced Duende as well. I just didn’t have the word to describe the feeling. Thanks for sharing. 😊

    Liked by 1 person

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