Grand Canyon

The Grand Canyon is like the brain

with deep, unexplored fissures and tributaries, 

the main route well known by now.

I am walking, walking inside my mind, 

a grand canyon, a planet of canyons, a system

of planets. The exploration may become dangerous

I might lose my job, forgetting to go or losing

sight of its importance. But the job is gathering

pinyon nuts and saguaro fruits, it is the main

river, deepest cavity, how I find the unexplored

canyons and tributaries of my neighbors

and my enemies. But is it a religion, 

a reason for living. It is a marriage, for better

or worse, with all the other living. The concept

of life's brevity, temporary compared

with the time taken to carve the canyon, does

not interest me. Each moment has a weather, 

is a mirror of all other moments. The naming

of things goes on. Cliff rose and wavyleaf oak, 

new mexican locust and sagebrush among ponderosa

and pinyon pine, juniper. Once I know

who they are inhabiting the canyon, the raven's

flight is meaningful. The raven's rock cave, 

search for seed and carrion, my home and job.