In the sunset spring blossom
The dirt was ugly
Fallen petals rustled like snakes to the warmth
Beckoning to me to disappear
As I am never quite alone
But always with the angels of my thoughts
The lakes of childhood
Rocking on the fringes of a gentle sadness
While futures level
To the raw essences of taste
The aspirations of class
A legal motion compelling
The good faith of interconnectivity
To sever its distractions
An honesty bearing silence
How deep does a light heart run?
Don’t stop breathing in
The only thing I see anymore
Is the quality of refraction
In the sun set barely essential
Like a crystal to disappear
An image that was waning
At the drawing time was near
I could feel its respiration
She passed a final word to me
A summoning
And I listened to the scattering of the ashes
As her close alluded my attention
“Leaves scattered in the
Rustling of winds
What to do with this
Life
Sometimes the greatest work of all
Is to loosen the work
A masterpiece concealed
In those beauties carry hearts
Through mad avenues of minds
Sweet nothings to the ears
Of generations
Reigns reins collectively tied
As life goes on déjà vu
Becomes
In everyday occurrence
Hollowed out seen through
All the same
Once conceptualized
Déjà vu au courant
In viola convex recurrence
Now existens in silent
Sounds’ absent concave troughs
Le discours du violon
Americano tragedy
Carried like another day
Na housle je ty
Valerian of the violin”*
Jason Greendyk, www.jasongreendyk.com
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