Dangerous Terrain

I. Grand Canyon
The space below Bright Angel Rim
swallows all sense of distance, scale,
perspective. It looks flat,
a painted canvas backdrop. Until you walk into it
and begin to measure with your feet:

How many steps to the next bend in the trail?
How much effort to climb
from the top of the Redwall through the layers of Angel shale?
How deep can I go and still see the top
of Vishnu's Temple? The space gains depth,
dimension, shadows. It unfolds around you, bigger
and bigger.

Take a hiking tour of your heart: measure
the distance from first love to knowledge of death.
Climb the steep switchbacks of desire.
Watch as landmarks vanish, masked by nearer events--
only to reappear in impossible distance
as you move through the canyon of yourself.

II. Nightmare Caravan
We crossed mudflats. In the cracks,
tiny yellow crystals sweated. Someone said
they grow from cycles of dry and wet,
drought and flood. Flash flood. Don't be caught out here
when it rains.

I have borne drought often. I fear flood.

The cliffs are steep. The oxen strain
but cannot climb the path. Dark overhead,
the storm clouds rumble.

On the flats, lotus seeds crack open
and lungfish stir in cocoons of dried mucus.
I fear flood.

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside