Colorado

Colorado

The echoes sound forever
through a million setting suns,
shadows creeping up the walls
as the wild river runs.

It thunders through the jagged rocks
and such power is untamed.
They called it Colorado
for its reddish flowing mane.

The journey of our planet
is not that hard to trace,
in the roughness of the sandstone
on the canyon's painted face.

The cliffs will loom above us
in a never-ending scene,
as all this rushing water
turns a blazing desert green.

It's a miracle of Nature,
a river at its best,
as it keeps the water flowing
in the wild, wild west.

A few will ride the rapids
through canyon walls so steep,
but others will respect it
and let the river sleep.

I can hear it in the distance
as a sunset's beauty stuns.
Echoes heard so far away;
through a million setting suns.