I climb to the highest point of this place called Zion,
My hands glide from sandstone rock up into Earth’s deep sky,
And all I feel, and all I think,
Is that we all just have to live, breathe, and dream,
Before we turn to stone.

Moving, gliding, spinning, turning,
Oranges, reds, and bright clean light,
They all bend down to kiss my cheeks,
And here I stand trying to breathe it in,
Before I turn to stone.

Energy, hope, creativity, joy,
My spirit catches flight,
It dances from rock to tree,
It dances with me,
Before I turn to stone.

Cries, gunshots, yelps, and neighs.
The people before me whisper through the canyons,
The tell me who they were,
Some won honor, some lost wars,
Some have tried to explore it all,
Before they turn to stone.

Infinite, wonderful, bright, imaginative,
This is how I feel as I explore this land that sings,
The songs wash over me and take away all fear and doubts,
I strain to catch every note,
Before I turn to stone.

Blues, purples, greens, and gold,
All these colors vibrate around me,
Their brilliance oozes towards me,
As they try to bleed into my eyes,
Before I turn to stone.

On top of the world I perch,
Intense shadows form as day fades to night,
Some live without this feeling,
The rest of us try to grasp as much of it as we can,
Before we turn to stone.