Morning in the West

Sunrise, anchored by a line
Of bold charcoal,
Awakens curves and angles
Of sleeping mountains.

Warm pinks and grays
Hover over hues of lavender,
While blue begins a journey
As far as eye can see.

High overhead, cotton-candy wisps
Roll and tumble,
Like little boys told to sit still.
A golden crescent rises in roundness
To station itself in heaven's ceiling.

River in a deep gorge gurgles its way
Downhill,
And singing waterfalls cascade
In splashes of sunray diamonds,
While boulder giants set boundaries
For rushing water.

Sure-footed cattle graze placidly
On grassy hillsides
In a summer-world, gone azure,
Green, and gold.
Clouds in white frilly skirts
Flirt with mountaintops.

Amid canyons of columned granite,
Villages of rocks
Stand as calcified Indians,
Stoically guarding stone tepees.

Smooth-topped mesas,
Flecked with sandstone,
Stand in contrast to cerulean sky
And purple-shadowed ranges.

A splurge of yellow flowers
Dances obeisance
To the Creator of all-
Nature's awesome wonders.