Three Lives Converged


(At the Grand Canyon with Scooter, Liz and Keats)


We walked to the altar of the cathedral of stone,

as through its halls the wolves’ song rang.

Like an angel an eagle soared

high above Wotan’s Throne.

Below us the river like foaming fountains

christened the Earth and its mystical mountains-

man and woman and man’s best friend,

alone with God and His granite garden.

Shadows of clouds in slow motion moved

across the face of the sculptured rock.

Time disappeared in the silent fusion

of Heaven’s cape with the canyon’s cloak.

Hand in hand of love we spoke,

of loyalty, faith and enduring trust.

Prayers we offered to the world as gifts

returned as snow in the evening mist.

Beyond the peaks the setting sun

streaked the sky with its scarlet rays.

We called from the cliffs the sacred names

of the mother of nights and the father of days.

Upon the frame of the cosmic loom

three souls among the stars were spun.

Upon the banks of the rainbow’s flume

three lives converged and became as one.



Copyright © 1994 John M. Marshall