Standing at the Feet of Zion
(Zion National Park Utah)
The walls of Zion
raise their heads toward eternity,
quietly pulling us into its bosom.
The walls ripple with brown sugar, chocolate heat,
red cinnamon, caramel and orange cream.
Ruby red seeps through amber walls
and mossy greens burst open into floral bouquets
spreading their legs in the sunlight.
Pine needles romp across the foothills
dusting the slick rock with sweet scents.
Tears of the weeping walls nurture colorful posies
hanging and holding tight.
A virgin river works magic in the green valley,
sometimes quietly and sometimes in violent tantrums
that command boulders to leap from cliff sides
and form new communities beside the river.
Rock climbers cling to towering walls
inching their way up like ants with a mission,
marching upward on Zion.
Emerald pools drip one into the other with a melody
that holds memories of a thousand years.
Close your eyes and look into the past.
See the ancient ones and hear ritual drums
Play sacrificial lyrics that float in the wind
blessing the earth on which we stand.
A festival for the eyes, ears, feet, heart and
soul,
Zion beckons us to come in for an intimate experience.
The energy of this space grabs and holds gently.
What a perfect name Zion.
© Teresa E. Gallion 2003
This poem is on my CD: On the Wings of the Wind.
In : General
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Teresa moved to New Mexico in 1987. While writing sporadically for many years, in 1998 she started reading her work in the local Albuquerque poetry community.
However, her first love is traveling the world and hiking the diverse landscapes of New Mexico. The woods are her temple and her therapist. Much of her spiritual work in unfoldment is during walking in the woods.
