Sky deepest of blue,
Rock the deepest of red.
Angled at two fronts,
Divided nature, natural divine.

The blue sky, lighter than the air above,
Inside the reddest of rock,
Caved, coved, in concert,
Sound to the plains, the mountains to hold.

Single place, with no display of a backdrop,
Collared state, of a mind that could not conceive,
A gap with no bridge, but passive,
Heavy fare for it’s passage.

©2007, Ron Globe