Canyons

by Francisco Stork on December 11, 2011

The wind and rain
Carve out our days
With whispers of eternity.

Why we are hollowed
Is not a question.
The plain earth seeks
Its own treasure
And quickens beauty’s work
By waiting.

The wind’s unspoken prayer
The tip-toe and the torrent of the rain
Melt our hardened rock
Into love’s space.

How will we bear
Infinity
This wound of time
Resplendent.

We will draw
To our inverted climb
To our perilous descent
The bold explorer’s step
The friend of wind and rain.

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