Surrounded by hills of painted sand
Whispering of a past long gone
Listening for wild calls of a forest primeval
Drowned beneath the roasting sun.
Walking a trail winding down
Into the erased past beneath
The hills of vivid color so silent
Swallowing every breath of air.
Above on the canyon rim
A reality turned unreal
Descending step by step into silence
Listening for whispers not there.
Surrounded by sands of a time long gone
Transfigured matter which speaks
In whispers not audible
Entombed in colored sands.