She seeks answers in the landscape,
this early nineteenth century woman.
Firmly corseted, demure by training,
constrained by society’s expectations.
She pauses deliberately on crude dirt path,
having followed it through rolling hills
amidst surrounding trees.
Would that she could stretch her limbs,
bloom anew, sway in every fresh breeze.
Remain firmly rooted defying threatening storms.
But she is here. Painted in her times.
Resolutely she turns, walks off canvas,
slowly returns home.
How much joy she would have
if in this moment she could know,
her female counterparts
will change the world.
Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual home for poets around the world. Today Melissa asks us to consider the artist Henri Rousseau and provides us with several of his works to motivate our poetry. I’ve chosen his painting, La Promenade dans la Foret (The Walk in the Forest) c 1886.
lillian the home poet 
If only, Lill, perhaps this world would be different.
LikeLike
What a wonderful intrepretation! I like the hope and final stanzas take away, well done🩵
LikeLiked by 1 person
luv your dynamite end line
much love
LikeLike
A poem full of hope! These lines stand out to me:
“Would that she could stretch her limbs,
bloom anew,”
LikeLike
You have captured the time period perfectly. Women indeed were required to live up to certain restraints and expectations. Thank goodness there were bold women who stepped forward and paved the path for change.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really like the historical aspect you brought into your interpretation of the painting. Well done!
LikeLike
In my mind, women already rule the world and us men still haven’t quite accepted it yet.
LikeLike
The first thought that struck me on seeing this picture was that the attire is not appropriate for a forest walk. You elaborated on it well.
LikeLike
The remarkable difference between responses to this painting show the power of art to take us into ourselves. Your response included!
LikeLike
Oh you brought Rousseau’s painting to life with descriptions so fitting of the times. I could feel her longing. I LOVE how she walks off the canvass!
LikeLike