upward lift

we were traveling down wyoming state road twenty-six, the landscape zooming beyond the window, my thoughts swirling. talk of the fallen arch filled the car. it's sad that future generations won't get to see it, she said. they'll all be gone someday, I responded. but new formations will rise. it's the same song and dance that has been going on since the beginning of time. through various forces, rocks rise. until time, erosion, gravity pull it all downward. it is a cycle. the sacred interplay of rebirth and renewal, of rise and fall.

quickly, I wrote these words down; putting pen to paper before they were forgotten:

the upward lift of rock to heaven
like hands held up in prayer

I held on to this imagery as we kept speeding past the tetons. I thought of these rocks, these mountain spires pushing up toward the sky. prayers unto heaven. hoping one day I, too, could be strong like the mountain.