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