The beauty
of the evening light
Recedes into
the dark façade
Of
technology’s design
Yes the
mountains, the heights
The peaks of
the intellect
Recede into
the sunset
Like
memories
Glowing
orange
Fading lavender
and violet
Iridescent
blue and gone
Black as the
night
That was
coming on
Silent as
the farm
Where we
waited all afternoon
Receding
into the weight
Of history
The memories
that would have you
Sleep no
more
Déjà vu au
courant
The pleasant
strangeness
Of post-industrial
existence
Through
which nothing quite
Reached you
Sounded
I listened
to the poet
As he sang
And my
thoughts were empty
In the
syllabi
A resonance
so clean
As to not be
seen
Not felt nor
heard
Receding into
solipsism
The echo of
the soul
The
philosopher always doubts
One’s own
being
Especially
in the grey
Evening manner
The light
that sank
Into the
widening of your eyes
As you
struggled
To find the
moment
And all
things around you
Peeled away
from nothing
Converging on
some distant point
The lines of
thought
Shaved off
the machine
In the
whittling
Of your
intellectual capacity
I want you
all
To touch
beauty
As I do now
I want you
all to reach back
Look forward
Or simply to
your side
And feel
again
Or for the
first time
The most
beautiful moment
Of your life
And let it
become you
As you
become
What you are
capable of becoming
I want you
to listen
To watch
To touch
The natural
beauty we all share today
In the woven
fabric of our lives
And hold on
Jason Greendyk
