Transition

The sun, slung low, on a red rock horizon
It's dying rays stretch to warm the canyon's wall
Shadows flicker and dance to music
Of a lone coyote's distant call

Vermillion hues in the cliffs and sky
So gently fade in twilight
And sparkles of golden sandstone dim
As stars fill the desert night

There is a moment in time, so brief
When creature's of day have fall'n asleep
and those of night have not yet stirred
When the rocks hold collective breath
Even the wind cannot be heard

It's in this moment the canyon lay
It's ancient walls exposed
And when the sun bows it's head to eve
All's left is quiet, repose.

Written on a trip to Zion National Park