By Will Falk

the canyon where I wander
seems empty to me

I am
wondering where to go
wondering what the canyon
will do with me
wondering at the emptiness of it all

burnt orange reaches to blue
where the stones hold the sky
the stones’ strong hands
are the only hands sure enough
to carry the sky

then the wind blows
and the stones sing
the melody plays on
orange rock formations
the thick, tall fingers
cracking in time
snapping in rhythm

it knocks me flat on my back

the strong, sure hands stack
the rock of my skull
on the rock of the canyon floor
criss-crossing the bones of me
with the bones of the desert

bone on bone, stone on stone
forming a cairn

and in the stacking
I am cracked open
and poured out
pooling with the shade
against canyon walls

and in the cracking
the canyon is no longer empty
it is filled with me

as the sun sets and
the sky turns a heavier black
the stones give me back to myself
I stand up and look around

I see the remainders of a cairn
and I remember
a cairn shows where to go

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Will Falk

Will Falk moved to the West Coast from Milwaukee, WI where he was a public defender. His first passion is poetry and his work is an effort to record the way the land is speaking. He feels the largest and most pressing issue confronting us today is the destruction of natural communities. He received a Society of Professional Journalists, San Diego Chapter, 2016 Journalism award. He is currently living in Utah.

Latest posts by Will Falk (see all)

• Time to Escalate? First-Ever Rights of Nature Lawsuit Dismissed - December 7, 2017
• The Rights of Nature and the Power of Law - October 18, 2017
• Why Does the Colorado River Need to Sue For Rights? - September 25, 2017