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1 " Eating Fruit at the Grand Canyon- A song to make death easy Since this great hole in earth is beyondMy comprehension and I am hungry,I sit on the rim and eat fruitThe colors of the stone i see, Strawberries of iron cliffs, sagebrush melons, white sand apple, grapesThe barely purple of the stonewashed slopes,And every color I eat is in my vision,Colonized by my eye, by me and everyoneI have known, so vast, so remote,That we can only gaze at ourselves, wonderingAt our reaches, eat fat fruit while weGrow calm if we can, our folded Rocky interiors pressed upwards throughOur throats, side canyons seeming almostAccessible, the grand river of blood Carving us even as we sit, devouringColor that will blush on our skinNourish us so that we may climbThe walls of the interior, bewildered, Tremulous, but observant as we moveDown in, one foot, another, careful not to fall, to fall,The fruit fueling us in subtle Surges of color in this vastly deep Where birds make shadow and echoAnd we have no ideaWhy we cannot comprehend ourselves,Each other, a place so deep and brightIt has no needs and we wonderWhat we’re doing here on this fragment Of galactic dust, spinning, cradled,Awestruck, momentarily alive. "
― Diane Hume George
