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Bright Angel Trail Final Light | by JamesWatkins
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Bright Angel Trail Final Light

Better Viewed Large-Bright Angel Trail from the Southern Rim is one of the more magnificent features of the main entrance. This trail seen from literally miles above. Donkeys and people can barely be seen as small dots from this distance. The point of the trail in the distance is an overlook to the canyon floor where the Colorado River is running. From THAT point it is still miles down to the bottom. I took that trip on foot in my younger days in the middle of the summer. It is no small feat.

 

FOR THOSE INTERESTED I HAVE AN EXHIBITION AT THIS LINK <a href=" www.flickr.com/groups/inspiringcollection/discuss/7215762...

 

STANDING ON THE PRECIPICE

 

Standing on the precipice,

Balanced at junctions,

Space and time-

There are no excuses here,

No explanations or rhymes.

 

Locked in lavish rhythm,

Far beyond the brink,

Hid from help or rescue,

On jagged edge distinct.

 

Weighty voices,

Tomorrows bearing,

Form forces by the day…

Wound tight

In folds of failure,

By faltering historic foray.

 

Naked standing truth,

Whirl winded and filleted,

Open now,

Body bleeding,

Clean by choice,

Ruthless rights parlayed.

 

Ring round the

Restless righteous,

Tormented tongues

Twisted and advanced-

Weapons trained,

Fitting filled,

Hopelessness entranced.

 

New toys

For large little boys,

Clicking clocks

In finest fashion.

Positioned perspective,

Poisoned possessive power,

From places unimagined.

 

Whining women,

Worn-out white wheezers,

Talking days on end,

Tortured trials

Of wasted words,

Useless air

Precious spent.

 

Children torn

Apart at seams,

Families drugged

And drenched…

Callous toned nightmares

Running wild,

Seeds scattered in the wind.

 

Lost by generation’s

Darkened doubt,

Aflame the fearless world,

Tossed aside in hellish schemes,

Now rampant,

Flags unfurled.

 

Gone the green

And yearning years,

Foundations fairly laid,

Of priceless pearl

In wisdom grown,

Crown jewelry

On parade.

 

But new

The turning earth begins,

Choice

Once again delayed.

Come cold and calm

Courageous men-

Run boldly to

Your fate.

 

And stand in

Earnest errand bare,

An era

At the end,

To bind yourselves

Betrothed and braced,

And finish

Without fear.

 

James Watkins (3-10-2007)

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Taken on February 1, 2009