a letter to Vincent Van Gogh

Dear Van Gogh,
.here I am , a century and a half ahead , looking back in the past , through my special kind of looking glass, feeling your pain , the sane one among the insane , I feel your pain..looking at your colours , green orange blue and your yellow house and chairs , and thinking If I could be your sunflower , 12 of them , of which you only painted two , yellow ,furry and with love ,with all the power ,..invested in me by your god , I dub thee the sane .you may kiss me now , but with your broken ear , you hear!
Trust your god.and the stars on your map, the black dots , all yellow and shiny
,tiny little knots .
.won't you fit me in your address book ?
Look?
I'll be blue on your night sky
Just give it one more try ,
lost in time , i am .
but come find me there , I've left my address on your map of stars ,
never cry
Never die .
Someone will come and save you too ,
Like I was saved .I lost hope too .
You saved her from her poison ,remember ?

Your brain shattered , so beautiful so blue !
someone will come for you too .
The gun powder will be set on fire , with green
With the soft light emanating from your night sky ,
I mean.
And it will stop fuming .and the flames will die out ..
Forever .
Just cry out
My name .
Sunflower , I'm called .
You know me .
You love me .
You know me.
You left the door of your soul ajar,
For the world and for the gods to see, it makes you free ,
You see .
Not a caged bird you were.
You loved the hands that dug the earth ,and ate.
For we are all but dirt .you knew.
For you, I hope
There is more to life
There is more to death
There is more to love
There is more to stars
And your sky .

A thousand days later,after you left.. I read a book , selling, best. It was about the anatomy of your illness ,
A lot of math , a lot of science ..
I remember , they mentioned one of the symptoms,
How you shared your bread with the woman and the unborn child , both peasants . So I fear ,im afraid that you were ill to the core ,
Your mighty heart ,all broken and sore .
I'm sorry !
My hands are also cold..I wonder .
But in my world ,my math , my science..
With perfect hues and perfect saturation ,
You were a beautifully balanced equation .
Your hair were orangy dusky like autumn.
Your eyes , so blue , as the sun ..
Did you draw yourself ? Tell me ?
Because they are complementary colours!
Oh dear friend don't die,
Not yet ,
This is a request , at best.
But as real as your letters to Theo ,
For in him you put all your trust .
Let the gun powder burn itself out.
Please.
You left me unfinished , unpainted,
I have to admit , I feel a bit empty and shallow .
For you I'll wait another thousand days,
I long for some depth , some colour , some life ..
Your knife and a stroke of yellow .
You know , we have more in common, dear fellow..
Its better to be earless than to be heartless.
As for me ,
I like to write honestly than beautifully ,
.for we both know ,
Its the same.
Sculpted like a tree , my letter to you.
I thought you'd like it this way
Yours truly ,
Umena.