Olivia Marie Poetry

Canyonlands

The sun flirts with the canyon rim as we go
Casting us in light and shadow and back again
A kiss of warmth and a teasing retreat.
All the hues of coffee and cream and chocolate and peaches and pancakes surround us.
(Our breakfast was miles ago.)
The heavy beat of the raven's wings in the quiet morning air
Matches my heart, a promise
That our rising steps are a worthy sacrifice
That when we finally gain the heights
I may reclaim my ragged breath like the gift it is.
There is no success at the top
No meaning or even happiness with a capital H
Just the pointed spires and chasms in matching measure.
The ponderosa and bristlecone wind a slow clock
Counting centuries I have not and will not see.
Only this moment, quick and comical as a fencepost lizard.
Later when we retrace our steps in smoky violet and pitted gold
With the help of gravity and the lure of a cup of tea
I might wonder at such struggle that took us nowhere.
Nowhere in particular anyway.
But we went together and it was beautiful.