Each tuft of desert grass

God gives a separate place

Profligate with space

That pilgrim feet may pass.

In each confluence below

The canyon’s colored bands

Each sinew of the sands

God draws with water’s flow.

Each layer of the past

On cliffs God raised in view

So we’ll confess it’s true

Our age won’t be the last.

Each cloud that God displays

Defined in desert light

We honor with our sight

And let it lift our praise.