If a painter wished
to set hope upon the canvas,
which color would the hand choose?
The yellow of dawn?
The green of leaves breathing?
The blue of the sea’s silence?
Or a red that wells up
from the heart of waiting?
In which style?
Realism—
with a rain-soaked alley
and a window half open to tomorrow?
Or surrealism—
with clouds that rain dreams
and a light shaped like a heart?
Hope
is not only color, nor style;
it is a hidden current
that runs through the dark cracks of the canvas
and suddenly,
where you least expect it,
ignites.
Perhaps
hope
is that very moment
when the painter,
before the first line,
draws a breath.
اگر نقاشی بخواهد
،امید را بر بوم بنشاند
دستش به کدام رنگ میرود؟
زردِ سپیدهدم؟
سبزِ نفسِ برگها؟
آبیِ سکوتِ دریا؟
یا سرخی که از دلِ انتظار میجوشد؟
در کدام شیوه؟
،رئال
با کوچهای خیس از باران
و پنجرهای نیمهباز به فردا؟
،یا سوررئال
با ابرهایی که رؤیا میبارند
و نوری که شکلِ قلب دارد؟
امید
نه فقط رنگ است، نه سبک؛
جریانیست پنهان
که از ترکهای تاریک بوم میگذرد
و ناگهان
در جایی که فکرش را نمیکنی
.روشن میشود
شاید
امید
همان لحظهایست
که نقاش
پیش از اولین خط
.نفس میکشد
-
Author:
soheil khodaparasti (
Online) - Published: December 13th, 2025 16:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
Online)
Comments2
The end of this poem reinforced my thoughts. To me hope is white the gathering of all colors of light not reflected but light itself and in it hope becomes what any wish or desire it is that canvas that exists blank before thought and paint are put to it. A lovely poem and a fave
Thank you so much for this beautiful and thoughtful reflection. Your reading adds a luminous depth to the poem, especially the idea of hope as white light, not a reflected color but the source itself, the quiet totality from which all possibility emerges. Seeing hope as the blank canvas before intention, before gesture or thought, feels both profound and tender. I am truly grateful you shared this perspective.
Beautiful poem on hope, my friend! A fave! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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