Trinity Each lavender, with golden base, Clouds sail across the pale green dawn Like ships planed flat upon the wind That ride the night, and by it spawned. The air is dry and clear and cool; And fogbanks left from last night's storm Now scud away like timid ghosts Before the wind, and sun reformed. Red dust, burnt cliffs, and lonely sky Converge beyond the ends of roads Left far behind this canyonland, This slickrock desert--gods' abode. Beneath the spreading sunrise lie Great mesas, canyons, leagues of maze, Red cliffs and arid tablelands Extending through a purple haze. Above, below the bulging curve Of earthly epidermis are The weathered bridges, hoodoos of Red sandstone--specters near and far; Stone gods? or ogres? built upon The bedrock which sustains us all, Devoid of human myth, ascribed "Truth" qualities that flake and fall. Medusas, gods turned face to face, And I, among them, risk myself By dreaming of a mystic world In which each man, each naked self May merge with the non-human world And yet survive intact, aware Of individuality-- O, paradox and bedrock prayer! October: rabbitbrush in bloom, A tumbleweed that longs to be Elsewhither rolls across the plain Before the wind of desert sea; Chamisa, beeweed, aster, flax And gramagrass stand resolute Amid the female junipers, Their light-blue berries bitter fruit; A flock of pinyon jays fly off While sparrows dart and flit nearby; A redtailed hawk soars far above This patient land that mystifies. A labyrinth, a gulf between Man's "is" and "was", "what's meant to be"; Fantastic, complex maze that falls Between the here and there--a key. ... Resisting time, but borne along, I sense the curving margin of Eve twilight marching into night And hear soft notes of desert dove. A yellow rash has broken out On mountainsides where aspen leaves, Impatient, dance in sunset's glow That tests a man's credulity. Soon, night will follow with its stars, A razzle-dazzle dance, assault Of silver, ruby, ermerald And sapphire blue in heaven's vault. Amid deep stillness, solemn light, Are beings standing--fins of stone And arches--hollowed out, as I, By time and left to lean alone, To lean on silence, emptiness Unbroken even by my thought, My sense that whether man shall live Or die concerns the desert not. Let men in madness blast the earth Into black rubble, blanket skies With lethal clouds of swirling gas-- Again, again, in time, shall rise Some living thing to stand and join With canyons, hills, and springs, and rocks Left waiting for a better course That leads away from paradox. I've seen the place called Trinity Where man once fused his will with Death; Already, there, grass has returned, Mesquite and cactus draw new breath. Surrendered to this bedrock faith, This capstone crown of sandstone land, I join with silent arch and fin, Await the consciousness of man. (C) 1-27-96 Charles SielertBirth sign: Not entered
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