Grand Canyon

The Grand Canyon is like the brain with deep, unexplored fissures and tributaries, the main route well known by now. I am walking, walking inside my mind, a grand canyon, a planet of canyons, a system of planets. The exploration may become dangerous I might lose my job, forgetting to go or losing sight of its importance. But the job is gathering pinyon nuts and saguaro fruits, it is the main river, deepest cavity, how I find the unexplored canyons and tributaries of my neighbors and my enemies. But is it a religion, a reason for living. It is a marriage, for better or worse, with all the other living. The concept of life's brevity, temporary compared with the time taken to carve the canyon, does not interest me. Each moment has a weather, is a mirror of all other moments. The naming of things goes on. Cliff rose and wavyleaf oak, new mexican locust and sagebrush among ponderosa and pinyon pine, juniper. Once I know who they are inhabiting the canyon, the raven's flight is meaningful. The raven's rock cave, search for seed and carrion, my home and job.