Look at the old man,
He is so peacefully sitting under the apple tree.
What does he see?
Rivers rushing away like years,
Somebody’s face who he kissed
Under the blossoming apple tree?
What does he see?
No more urges, no regrets and discoveries.
It is all gone, but he finally has no need
To rush, to chase, to speed.
What does he see?
Nobody runs away from the death,
Nobody gets away with his sins.
He has time now, and he just dreams it away
Under the blossoming apple tree.
What does he see?
It feels like he has the answer,
It feels he has got the entire eternity.
Inese Poga Life School 
Such a fresh and yet insightful and reflective poem, Inese. Maybe that’s your painter’s eye at work! I can almost see you painting this picture.
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Thanks Cynthia! I think that’s always the case. My writing is a verbal painting. It’s interesting how you noticed that. It comes from my school years and the way I developed my extremely good memory: I always visualized anything in its relationship to other parts. I could learn by heart 60 pages word by word. I don’t do that any longer, but when it comes to tough medical terms, I can recall anything which I have been working at during the last 5-6 years: the text, the term and the file where it was. It helps. I don’t need any lists, any reminders since the memory stores it all no problem. I could not deal with medical writing and research, because it’s always very complicated, but I’m doing this still to maintain the flexibility of the brain.
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Your poetry lends it’s creative eye to your painting. Job well done!
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Thanks Sheri so much for visiting this site! That most likely is the case. Have a nice weekend! I hope you are managing all the problematic issues!
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