Canyon walls

an arroyo dried

with sand and natural gravel bars

veins of it up and down

meandering

making to taking

my eyes onto its subtle path

from it to the trees they go

my eyes see these,

like green smudges

tens of yards away

the bounce of my gaze

from down to up

by my gait,

up and down

to horizontal

down and up

by the ragged terrain,

and then again

close now,

quite a trip

made in the heat

to the feet

of what once were

distant,

green smudges,

become cotton woods,

some old,

the younger ones standing,

like children

near the older ones

leaves turn to silver

by light of the sun,

whose shapes,

whose scent turn me,

to my childhood,

as i was raised in the shadow,

of their stature

nostalgia surrounds me with this,

this beauty,

to overwhelming

i am overcome,

filled,

mesmerized . . .

magnificent colors of shades,

all hues and tints of green,

playing visual sensations,

with the retinas of my brain

leaves all flutter,

like twinkling jewels,

suspended by thin strings,

of stems,

turning,

spinning,

and counterwise

again,

by the breeze,

sure to turn to wind

as the day moves forward,

to setting sun,

as i meander in this arroyo,

that will turn soon

to canyon,

by footstep increments

. . . as i approach the narrow chute,

of this canyon’s portal,

the wind will push me in

and howl,

as a menace,

to my calm

a cold sheet,

when the sun goes down,

pressing on my back

its howl will test my nerve,

it will bring me alarm,

just as it is without form

invisible,

yet alive,

making eerie sounds . . .

darkness comes profound

in this desert . . .

there are things in this canyon

that are not of the light

they refuse to bathe in it

preferring unclean cracks

deep inside . . .

the canyon sandstone walls,

stand sentinel,

in wait,

for those,

who dare infringe

the ground beneath my feet

is more solid now

given over to hard packed sand

the wind shrieks above me

and along all sides now,

affronts my chilling skin,

exposed now,

for lack of full legged pants,

no match for t-shirt

ragged worn by this aimless trek,

as the dimming light,

falls ever faint

the particles of light diminish,

dark descends,

like an ethereal curtain

it falls in billows,

waves of subtle wisps,

that envelope,

each quantum space

infuse my every pore,

with the air itself

. . . my eyes strive

to catch scant photons

i feel more than see

a hollow,

50 paces, or so,

ahead

a break from the wind,

it seems

it’s there,

no other choice,

where i will make myself,

a nest of rock

armed now,

with flint and steel

intent to make a fire,

in this ancient place

i feel my way around,

though i cannot fend,

or shake the feel,

of some one,

watching me

i long for my arroyo friends,

i crave the light,

dancing on the cottonwood leaves

the lizards

and the birds,

even the gnats

here the darkness overwhelms,

my efforts to breathe . . .

i strike a spark,

the flame is born of bits of sticks,

carried here by streams,

cycles of drought and rain,

over eons’ time,

no other trace of human kind

the fire grows,

out of the darkness,

shadows emerge

dancing on the walls,

they flicker,

taking the place,

of bright sun’s light,

whirling patterns of these,

which of these are those,

that watched me,

awhile ago?

sentient beings

watched,

as i entered,

their portal

they’re still here,

moving,

dancing shadows,

lurking

their intent,

malevolent,

no doubt . . .

they will infuse me,

they will provoke mind twists

and nightmares

they will attempt to harass me,

in my sleep

and will,

to a certain extent,

acheive,

their devious pleasures

but no succubus,

no demon from this portal,

will prevail,

against me

. . . an angel of light

just entered,

through the portal gates,

of this place,

while the small fire blazes,

. . .blessed light

flash of platinum white

for just an instant

. . . brings me illumination,

clean,

cleanses me of the dark,

as i await,

the dawn to break

the hieroglyphic patterns

on the walls

the occultic charms,

etched therein

the swirling circles,

the giant alien forms,

standing,

carved into the rock,

will not intimidate my mind

though i cannot sleep,

my soul,

my heart,

the Lord of Hosts,

does keep