This July day flares hot—
a summer tongue lashing.
We have crossed mountains of
slick rock, torrid trailheads.
Delicate Arch awaits us.
Shadows of cinnamon,
garnet, carnelian, gold
surround us like stealthy
chaperones who stare straight
at the sun rather than leave us.
As we search for surprise
in a place where wildness
and imagination
walk as one, each new turn
startles, each slap of sun
sizzles. Each footfall on
ancient stones sears like an
x-ray photograph, as if
we might look into earth’s
beating heart as we move on.
It is far too late to shift
course. At a next turn, we
meet stragglers heading down.
They are missionaries for
our continued heavenward
journey. Faces tell all –
there are earthly pleasures
to be found ahead if
flesh is willing. Their news
is welcome. We move on.
Finally, prayers win
out. We arrive to find
nature’s erogenous
zones arrayed like Ingre’s
Odalisque. Flares of sunset
begin to trace each curve.
A dancer in equipoise,
caught in an act of faith,
just before she might leap
into some fiery unknown.
(Arches National Park, Utah)