The Ravine of the Peyroulets - Vincent Van Gogh

the land is formed I watch on - still as time itself clutched by contradictions my chest hurting - opposing this steady flow of thought how could I observe such a thing time is not still land not shaped before my eyes complexity cannot be rushed each and every brush stroke takes me closer to understanding yet - understanding itself - distances me like nothing else ever could those simple solutions the flat plains you see - they aren't the ravine in your view rocks don't fall sides don't slope by God, I cannot follow your path cannot frolic in this place every path of mine is beautiful danger it requires stillness contemplation it is a different landscape I yearn for the steadied seat yet mine must be dug into stone piles my core strength activated at all times the threat of a fall needs constant attention stillness is knowing - the ravine was forged the same way it flows to the ocean and rests there acknowledging this beauty I see it's a caress for a troubled soul I wish I could translate it beyond the paint