I Came Here for Some Answers

At the top of the Grand Staircase
in Bryce Canyon
the hoodoos call to one another—these rock waves,
crests of limestone, siltstone, dolomite, mudstone
paralyzed by time, patiently resist the dark night sky.
I came here for some answers.
But if these stone towers and red spires
know anything, they’re not telling me.
I’ve never understood the beauty
of destruction. Shiva’s eye third of wisdom.
Those Tibetan monks who destroy sand mandala
to get healed. The millennia of wind, water and ice
having their way with me. This moment
which will never come again. The weathering
of my life into smaller and smaller pieces
until there is nothing but this silence
whistling past my ears.