A Utah Poet on the Grand Canyon

Utah Poet on the Grand Canyon Jack Borlase is not entirely unknown to readers of the Era. He has heretofore favored them with at least one characteristic poetic contribution. The Literary Digest recently gave him this notice, and published his poem which follows "Out West, in a Utah village called Kanab, there is a man named Jack Borlase, who edits The Kane County News. Occa- sionally Editor Borlase forsakes prose for poetry. And it is real poetry, lacking sometimes in polish, often roughly idiomatic, but genuine in feeling and strong in expression. The poem below, in spite of such colloquialisms as 'when I acted most infernal,' is a thing of beauty and power."

The Message of the Grand Canon BY JACK BORLASE

A purpose He had when He builded me, When He covered me o'er with rock and tree, And the purpose He had I will tell to thee; For it seems that you do not know. .

The lynx and the lion, the lean coyote And the mountain-sheep and the bearded goat Have ever and e'er understood the whys And the great wherefores of the painted skies Where the waters of myst'ry flow; But the "all-consuming" brain of a man Is a bit too weak to fathom the plan.

Since the days when the Master came and said, "Now be a mountain instead of a bed, And grit your teeth while I cut your head And your trunk and your tail clear through," I have often wept and I've often smiled

When I've thought of the poor fools, running wild; And to tell the truth, there are moments still When I weep my weep and I laugh my fill, As I listen to some of you; But the message I bring is a vital thing, And a worthy song is the song I sing. The old Piute and the Navajo, Though their skins are bronze and their ways are slow, Both listened to me in the long- ago When I acted most infernal; And above their failings, above their fears, And beneath their smiles and beneath their tears, Is the hope of a happy hunting-ground, And the hope of a future to be found Yea, faith in a life eternal. And this is the message I bring to you, Which is old as the hills and ever new.