The Canyon

The Canyon

Out on the edge where you can see
Two billion years ago
There’s an ancient pinyon tree,
And a sitting rock I know
Where you can sit and dream of time
That made the world so.

Sometimes on a summer day
When nothing stirs the air
It seems that time has gone away
And left space timeless there,
But then the distant river’s voice
Calls up to let us know
That what we call tranquility
Comes from chaotic flow.