At the end of the road in Zion National Park, there is a place called the Temple of Sinawava, a natural amphitheater nearly 3,000 feet deep. From this shaded, still and beautiful valley, the traveler may enter the Zion Narrows, a channel in the rock cliffs hollowed out by the Virgin River. The river here can be waded and the slot canyon explored. From time to time, rocks fall from the cliff face into the river with a satisfying resonance. This poem is an interpretation of the feelings brought up by experiencing the sound of a rockfall somewhere upstream while standing at Sinawava.