Canyon

The glassy rocks

bear our weight

in the distance

low voices

of the ancestors

we hear only

the river rush

to unseen depths

we know only

what we cannot know

Sure footing slips away

into the canyon

it is not my time to fall

I peer into the sky

waiting for

the change to come

something is about

to happen

but I must make

its meaning

scrapes of petroglyphs

climb nowhere

the breath of dawn

bittersweet breeze

this is not the path

of triumph this is not

the path of peace

* * *

The ancient stone fence

crumbles and sways

it holds back nothing

berries and birds

grow where they will

the rock face trembles

the earth moves

something is about

to happen