Zion Lodge Panorama In Zion Canyon, Zion National Park (September 14, 2016) — Images by kenne
Stains across an aerie altar, white-streaked red
suspended above my reach, but not my sight.
Perhaps ancient titans sacrificed, honored, bled
now revealed in golden strains of morning light.
My Zion, my refuge
from all it is not.
Oh Zion, my haven
where solace was sought.
Did angels take wing from that lofty perch?
Does the stone truly weep for ages past?
When bygone men for food here did search
in the giant’s throne shadow cast.
This Zion, my friend
please show me how
Oh Zion, my Zion
if only time would allow.
Steps upon crimson sand and stone
as wind, water, eons carve and hew,
I realize my soul was still unknown.
for what was old is now new.
— Terry Tyson