Mary Beath

“Grand Canyon/West

Human stories roll across the
Landscape, demanding attention, voicing
Their energy, responding to my questions;
The land only vibrates in the wind.
Or not. Rocks and lava, caught in the moment
Of fall, of flow, expose fractured
Innards and cooled heat, vibrate only rarely.
These human voices and the tales they tell
Deflect with looks,their gestures,
Their act of giving me what it can feel
Myself, or at least understand. I can’t
Put myself in the pinyon’s place, trembling
At the edge, growing at the upper end of a
Human sized bowl, the lower end a slot i peer
Through to see the river’s ribbon, its white flecked
Trail through the deepest cleft of all. I can’t know
The pinyon’s mind , though I try.”
― Mary Beath