Canyons always evoke a sense of picturesque excitement of nature,
Slot canyons elevate the thrill several notches by their sheer stature,
They are found in many parts of the world in areas with low rainfall,
Often described as long narrow drainageways, with sheer rock walls

Rock walls are typically eroded into sandstone or other sedimentary rock,
Depth-to-width ratios increasing even ten-fold should come as no shock,
Slot canyons can be subject to flash flooding - a typical characteristic,
Unique soil compositions, differing from the drier uplands, are realistic

Nature's wondrous creation can be seen in the Upper Antelope Canyon,
Water and time have eroded the rock, turning it into a slot canyon,
The transition to formation of smooth flowing rock is incredible,
As if nature willed the breathtaking interior to be truly impeccable

Arizona's Antelope Canyon was formed over time by erosion of red sandstone,
Centuries of flash flooding and intermittent wind resulted in this keystone,
The narrow passageway leads several hundred feet away from the opening,
The gorgeous photogenic sloping of the rocks is a sight worth mentioning

In local lingo, the Navajos call this "the place where water runs through rocks",
Come monsoon, rainwater gushes into the narrow passageways, round the clock,
The passageways are eroded over time making the corridors get more deeper,
Hard rock edges smoothen with characteristic flowing shapes, that look sleeker

A stark feature is the shafts of sunlight radiating down from the canyon top,
The effect is most pronounced during summer, with action almost nonstop,
The light shafts illuminate pink, orange and gold patterns on the canyon walls,
Winter colors are a tad more muted, but still a sight for visitors to enthrall

It's a common sight to see visitors jostling for vantage points for photoshoots,
Tourist guides revel in clicking group photos with free advertising to boot,
Every turn and steps ahead provide an unique exhilarating experience,
Exclamations of awe and wonder that fill the air, befit the ambience

As the 4x4 AWD vehicle drives you back at the end of the slot canyon visit,
Rapturous memorable visuals of the stunning canyon interior are hard to desist,
Witnessing one of nature's marvels leaves an euphoric feeling of being perennial,
Poetic encomium would do little justice to the canyon's beauty, that feels surreal

My vine bends low with purple grapes
A bountiful harvest so fine
Clusters so large - flavor so sweet
Stems from daily growth divine

An ancient wall stands high and long
With stones added one by one
Erected not in rush or haste
But with daily growth was done

The canyons deep, rugged and steep
Carved by rivers - rapid or slow
Their rugged walls truly attest
To the strength of the daily flow

I look about, and glean this truth
From the things I hear and see
Listen close - I’ll share it with you
Daily growth is prosperity

an undulating reverie
hangs heavy in the silence
past canyons abundant with sunlight
and dreams made out of cotton

there, beyond the intoxicating haze,
you stood.

my lips uttered no words
that the universe could decipher
but the midnight tide understood
what i truly meant

now, if only you could, ma chérie

but the scrupulous colloquy is bound to break
and the stratosphere rewinds again
past divine oculists and obstinate facsimiles
and beyond the desolate valleys
where no sunshine dares to embark

and what’s left in the end
at the very edge of such a disenchanting,
morose fantasy

is you, and me,
and an undulating reverie.

Ran the world's belt to step outside
And breathe crisp air so fine,
To mount the seas of emerald green
And kiss soils poured with wine.

Stepped upon a thousand grains of sand
Buried deep within the crystal snow,
To find some clarity in a looking glass
But where it lies I'll never know.

Treaded on rocks to touch the sun
And stroke the moon's white face,
To pray for time and not for sin
And bask in silence's grace.

Past the icy peaks and tumbling rocks
Where avalanches bring news today,
It's hard to keep spinning with the world
When there's no path to walk the way.

Too much has come and passed before,
Yet too little has been seen
On riverbeds and meadows of green
And mountaintops with lustrous sheen.

In canyon creeks I'll lay my head
To rest through this quiet night.
Though the wild is dark to open eyes,
The songs it sings will bathe me in light;

It whispers,
Carry me up these stairs
Hold me against your arms
Let me down on the ground made of clouds
In the way marked up above.

back when summertime
sadness was hip.
beating hearts felt like butterflies
trapped in a plastic water
bottle trying their hardest
to get out and bodies of water
that were frighteningly black but as clear as
broken glass and
worn down cowboy boots
and perfectly fragmented
scarlet and burnt orange
canyons
and crushed
beer cans by the firepit
and isolation and
inescapable infatuation.
the world was so beautiful and
almost ethereal but it wasn't
familiar. like it had been
taken apart and put back
together differently than before.

-*z. vega

So,
My shirts are ragged and I
Drink too much on many occasions and I
Often reek of cigarettes and untold lies and I
Can't seem to keep myself steady for more than a minute but
I

Can write a love poem that'll make you go to pieces
And I
Will calculate the distance to the stars and find out how to launch you there
And I
Won't rest until I see it completed.

Sure, I
Can't control a sentence for more than a few words and I
Barely know my thoughts and I
Am a rambling, insecure mess and I
Don't know where I came from, but
I

Can help you find a home here amongst the shadows,
And bellow out your name so it infinitely echoes

The smell of inspiration
The desire to keep your pace
The rain in your hair
Coloured in rocks
You in your natural habitat
Walls of canyon stone
The rush of the waterfalls
The pain of the drop
As every senseless breath is gone
You can feel yourself drown
In the beauty of nothingness
In silence and peace
On this loud earth
Where the water falls