Omnipotent God,
as if stiletto in mighty hand,
slashed with its tip,
earth’s skin
leaving a ragged cleavage nearly to its center.
Slashed this Black Canyon of the Gunnison.
From the deep gash, sings earth’s monophonic chant,
an incessant primordial roar,
the sacred hymn of eonian canyon creation.
Vertical walls, shaded in primal grays and browns,
are washed black at sky’s edge from cold waters
plummeting to mighty Gunnison River so far below
it looks a mere trickle.
Looking like a flattened giant snake,
light brown streaks meander randomly,
upon immense erect stone,
forming this deep slit, and
extending a vast distance,
beyond my limited gaze.
My reverence for this sacred cathedral of nature,
Forces my prolonged silence.
As much as in any man built cathedral,
Here I am at one with our Creator.
by Edward Lambert
