In the morning light the canyon
walls
are charming, iridescent,
welcoming your awe, basking in
your praise.
Effortlessly fly to its open arms,
foolishly take its gilded paths.
From within its depths it beckons
you further;
the sirens of its silent pulse.
Scarcely can you resist its
allure!
Yet within its bowels the devil
dwells.
All at a glance the facade is
stripped
and freed from its rosy and
warming enchantment
you blink at the blazing, noon day
sun
and the miles of stone from whence
you've come.
Your senses with you, you know it
is time;
put the river forever at your
back.
The gentle walls that pressed you
downward
have stiffened their posture and
steepened their slopes,
transformed from stones to stony
faces
laughing in the face of your noble
ascent.
It is a battle now, or a game
perhaps,
and the cliffs know the way oh so
well
and you have begun to feel the
strain
of the years you aged as you
passed, unsuspecting,
through the ages of time in the
canyon's depths.
So now, no longer young or foolish
you feel the weight of the lofty
climb
and turning to face the gaping
abyss, you shout,
“Why
not just take me now?!”
The echo taunts your final plea,
Yet up you must go, so up you do.
And as each food beats out the
other,
and as your lungs refuse to
breathe,
you find yourself, agains all
odds,
higher than you were before.
Foreboding rocks glare at your
progress
and shadows seem to block your
path,
But look: the surface of the earth
in sight!
No longer walk, but break its hold
and dash
with the last of your might to the
sun.
Feel the level ground beneath you,
feel the laughter in your lungs!
Turn and face your proud opponent,
be in awe of such a worthy one.
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