The Sun is a greedy emperor, 

Shining its light across the Canyon, 

And evaporating drops of water. 

 

With the land so parched and no color than red, 

The beings must have knelt by now, right? 

No, there are a few that stand. 

 

Enter the Cactus, raising its hands, 

The skin is so prickly, 

With one touch, you cut your fingers. 

 

The outside looks like harm, 

But think again, there’s something inside. 

Like a mother and child, 

The Cactus protects its water, 

Making sure it never falls into the wrong hands. 

 

While the Cactus stays put, the Rattlesnake darts around, 

Rattling its tail to give its signal. 

It basks in the shadows under the rocks, 

Waiting to pounce and sneak around. 

No wonder it survives. 

 

Across the mesas and plateaus, the Bighorn Sheep thumps its hooves. 

Its legs resist against the mountains, 

Like a swimmer against a current. 

 

How calm it seems, but it has a dark side. 

Beware of its horns, 

Your bones will crackle with its rage. 

 

Moving along on the ground, 

Lies the Scorpion. 

With its claws and curled stinger, 

The creature has no beauty. 

But its venom and pinch elevate its rank. 

 

The beings in the Canyon may bring disgust, 

But think again, 

The Canyon hasn’t burned them yet.