The road takes me through
A deepening darkness
Toward a near horizon
Of fantastical colour
Receding with the sun
I depress the accelerator
Hoping at least to keep pace
But wishing to my core
That someday
I will catch up
The road takes me through
A deepening darkness
Toward a near horizon
Of fantastical colour
Receding with the sun
I depress the accelerator
Hoping at least to keep pace
But wishing to my core
That someday
I will catch up
The mesa falls away
Into the depths of early evening
Low sun illuminates
Undulating canyons and buttes
Sedimented sandstone
Layers indicating a scale
Powerfully daunting
And exquisite
And I
Stopped halfway between
Floor and ceiling
Sense myself in the centre of aeons
Epochs pass
Every hundred steps or so
Up the trail
A hundred years
A thousand
A hundred thousand
A million
Unwinding time
As species come
And species go
Great, fearsome lizards
Ruled the known universe
For 165 million years
But only in the last tens of steps
Before the top
Do I walk in the footsteps
Of my most ancient ancestors
A paltry 6 or so million years ago
I am reminded
For all our accomplishments and cleverness
We are but toddlers on this Earth
Itself nothing more
Than a pale blue dot
Circling a minor star
Spiraling in an outer arm
Of one galaxy
In a universe dotted
With hundreds of billions
Layer upon layer
Of time and space
Stretch out to scales
Unimaginable
A few steps more
I stand atop the mesa
Returned to the time and place
That belongs to me now
Deep, heavy breaths
To gain my equilibrium
While scanning across the vista
Tallying a few hundred million years of strata
A snippet
In an existence billions of years in the making
Layer upon layer of time and space
To make this collection of sediments
Which seems so very vast and ancient
But is no more than a cosmic blip
In all that was
All that is
And all that will be
I feel small
Fleeting
Insignificant
Yet
Somehow
And nonetheless
Stupendously magnificent
Because in all this immensity
Stands me
A self-aware collection of molecules
Contemplating the inconceivable miracle
That is my own consciousness
Tucked away in some small backwater
Of eternal infinity
Just how fucking exquisite is that?
And the view up here is awesome.
The sun sets
Light falls away to darkness
But for the little beacon of light
That is me
Rule of Thirds tells me
Never place the horizon
In the middle of the frame
But I am often as enraptured
With the sky as the land
So break that rule without remorse
Embers burn beneath the grey
From the fire an amber glow
Mitten outlined on horizon black
In the dying light of setting sun
A simple scene becomes exquisite
I return to fabled places
Find there
Always
Something new
A different light
A new story
History added
Or revised
Here mittens and buttes
Formations once remembered
For Spaghetti Westerns
Now where Forrest Gump
Just plain stopped runnin’
Barely a trickle
Below, broken evidence
Here sometimes a fall
From a high vantage
Late in the afternoon
Or is this early evening?
An in-between of light and tone
Like my mood
I scan the roads
Which took me here
Now and in the past
And again perhaps
In some near or distant future
Far below
Moving slowly
Or so it seems
Scale and time
Diminished by the distance
Carloads of people
And luggage
Expectations
And dreams to be
Fulfilled or dashed
Some approach
Some recede
All have, or will
Round the curve below
Before, or after
Passing behind me
On the switchback’s final curve
Some stop
Unload their occupants
Who join me and the gentle breeze
On Cedar Mesa’s rim
To bask in changing sky
With quiet wonder
My fear is always
More about the road
Already travelled
Than what is to come
I carry the past
As tragedies
And failures
Then project them ahead
Like road signs
Diverting me from a truer path
I remind myself
When checking the rearview
Acknowledge the tragedies and failures
Along the road once travelled
But leave them in the past
Then bring to mind
The triumphs and successes
Project these on every road ahead
As billboards of encouragement
With my love I stand
On the brink of immensity
At once diminished to a speck
And raised up with a presence
I can only describe as divine
As immense as the canyon below me
My love takes my hand
Rests her head on my shoulder
Nothing is so grand as love
I stand upon this grandest rim
Try to imagine unthinkable time
Relent before too long such fruitless task
Instead I’ll contemplate this lazy little rhyme
Through the plateau
The Colorado pickaxe falls
Reveals sedimental sandstone rings
The eons marked on canyon walls
Rock bottom finds the hardest rock
Twelve hundred meters down below
There an ancient granite shield
No deeper can the river go
But wider still
The river’s reach
A force of will
The cliffs be breached
Upstream the river
Has not yet found
The basement rock
So burrows still into the ground