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My Divinity

My violet pastel pencil 
came to a rest
after sketching the 
outline of the natural pond
fringed with bamboo, palms, 
and exotic tropical foliage
reflected 
in the mirrored waters.
Standing before
the easel I couldn't
get my eyes off
the arched footed bridge,
on my left, but
I was still wondering,
what was amiss?
I always loved
the invasion of life
pulsating in my paintings. 
I had as yet 
to sketch
on the left of the canvas-
leaving it partially blank-
before I filled it
with colours.
Somehow,
my heart always waited
for an unknown heartbeat 
to come to complete 
my frame of colours.
I uncapped my flask
to sip my hot black coffee-
it brewed 
a hope for a magnetic attraction.
I sat on the hard rock
and gazed around
while enjoying 
its lingering bitterness
on my taste buds.
Strangely,
no inspiration-
the hand still void
of movement.
I shut my eyes
with the head drooping.
Minutes passed and
I heard a sound
of light footsteps 
on the wooden bridge.
I knew my intuition had
been fulfilled- 
the perfect,
much awaited heartbeat
had arrived there
to be framed
in its exclusive blank space.
I lifted my eyelids
careening my eyes,
it couldn't be true, 
certainly mother 
couldn't be here
at this hour and 
in such a far away place.
I picked up 
the dependable binoculars,
it surely was Mother,
resting her elbows
over the ledge of the bridge,
but she was young, beautiful,glowing
as I had seen her
in my childhood.
She turned towards me,
smiled and waved.
I left my binoculars 
to run towards her,
her hand stopped me.
I froze until she gestured me
to paint.
Feverishly I painted
creation in its multi-coloured hues,
with blood gushing speed,
until my painting was complete,
leaving me breathless.
I took a step back to assess
my masterpiece-
not to be sold,
but to be hung in the lounge
for admiring eyes.
I looked towards the 
pristine bridge,
mother was beckoning me.
With hastened step 
I stood before my divinity,
a tear in her eye,
spelled love and yearning.
I clasped her in my arms, 
the give her the tightest hug,
to realise
I had enfolded only myself.


SECOND
Balveen Cheema
February 15, 2015
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