Jeremy Frost
I wanted to do something significant with thirty-eight years of
reading
The work arrogant Professor Ghose had us read in freshman English
I intended burying the book somewhere in the Grand Canyon
But we could only carry so much on the mule
I learned god is a mule named Snoopy carrying me
21 miles to the depths of the canyon and back
White as a cloud descending the trail from dust to dust
I did not overcome my fear of heights
But instead embraced the mule while watching its hoofs
Peel away layers of two billion year old earth skin...
I’m not here. My ancestors are not here. Dinosaurs are not here.
What remains?
Devil’s backbone...
Devil’s switchback...
So much beauty in evil and pain
Your joy is your sorrow comes to my mind again
In the Indian Meadow I as self come undone
The colors hued in stone swirl a temptress’ tale
I am two billion years old
Fire and ice...meek and brave...
I have trouble knowing where the canyon wall ends and I begin.
World without end
I without beginning
The stream’s white noise explodes my veins
The skies pure blue a musical thought becoming a symphony
I just am...
A grand canyon...hollow...empty...without the need for reason
For a brief moment I don’t know if I’m a mule
A shard of granite...a shadowy willow lining a creek bed...
I don’t know who I am or what I am as I strive for the bottom of the
canyon
Reality is I must reassemble my self
Or I will fall off this damn mule!
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