A legacy of water
Once Imprisoned in a geological Alcatraz
inert, helpless, gravity it’s only friend
Became
an emphatic knife carving through hard
Precambrian flesh
always under cover of shadow
a slow Darwinian sculptor
the universal solvent, eroding
one inch every century revealing
a secret, a whisper, a clue
It is a marvel to whom exactly?
always the nag questions
“How or Why”
or the automatic response
“Breathtaking, Awe Inspiring”
But Ask the rock:
“Are homo sapiens alone in questioning
the mechanism behind your existence? And
do you know who or why?”
The Marvel is in us more than “painted” stone,
more than History’s gaping exoskeleton proclaiming:
‘death is normal, life the very brief exception’
minerals spun cotton candy like
into our brief soap bubble of existence
***
This poem is a response to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison in Colorado. I’ve included a link with a pic. Even when ‘gravity’ is your only friend, over time something beautiful can be the legacy. Much like the way a mental illness disables easier paths in life, something beautiful like a poem can be created.
