a slot canyon beyond the Temple of Sinawa
the breath-taking sheer wall rises above
and beyond me.
The California Condor squawks and circles above
the sky cracks open
more every bend I turn
the high-waisted water
the rumble of stone moving
with the current and jostle of the seeker.
The scale of humanity diminishes here
it’s amazing that this Heaven exists
petals fall through the morning light
leaves float down to the Virgin River
canyon base where I wade.
The smooth weeping line of one waterfall thin
falls down a clean wall slanted to the high plateau.
Flash floods of the past
filed high ledges with rocks the size of my head.
Emerald pools gathered in the low hollows
green and sparkling as the sun was about to
perch on the top of the ridge.
The day unshaped by fear or any conscious reason
just the narrow and recently carved walls
that is, only 100 million years ago.
The last turn, the colorful lava rock at my feet
the red stripes, the gold buried beneath small rapids
the orange layers lying on their side face
shuffled by the stream and occasional hiker
into this dimension of Zion.