Scorpion tracks fill,before the second sunrise—Nile heat owns the wind.
Tag: Egyptian
The Living Feast: A Cross-River Elegy for Two Kinds of Remembering
The Beautiful Feast of the Valley—Heb Nefer en Inet—was not a mourning. Let me be clear from the start: this was a celebration. Every year, as the Nile's summer heat began to haze the horizon, the living would cross the river to the west bank of Thebes. Not to weep. To feast. Imagine the tomb …
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The Forest in Stone
Sing, Muse, of the place where the mortal and the god once kissed—Karnak, the chosen seat of Amun, lord of the invisible breath,Where the east bank of Thebes grew heavy with glory like a lifted fist,And the Nile itself bowed low, remembering the promise of deathOutdone by pillars. For what man could carve a forest …
Hallowed Ordinary: Walking Awake in the Shadow of Osiris
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about Osiris—not as a distant god carved into temple walls, but as someone who once walked, breathed, ruled, was betrayed, and then chose to rise differently. If I imagine him looking at today’s world, I don’t think he’d be shocked by the hardships. Hunger, injustice, the weight of …
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The Weighing of Light
In the quiet dawn, I dream of Aaru’s field, Where the reeds grow tall beside a silver river, And the souls who pass through judgment’s feather-light May walk forever where the lotus blooms. No shadow falls, no serpent breaks the grain— Only the sun, whose name was Ra, keeps watch. At first, the west holds …
The Door That Watches Back
I didn’t remember walking into the temple. I only remember the feeling of being called—like something ancient had whispered my name long before I was born, and I had finally answered. The air inside was cold, thick with dust and something older… something that felt alive. Three doorways stood before me. To my left, the …
The First Spark
Before the light, before the breath,Before the dance of life and death,There lay a silence, deep and vast,A future shadowed, overcast. No star had sparked in velvet dark,No time had left its fleeting mark,Just endless still, a formless haze,The universe's unlit maze. Then came a tremor, small and slight,A stirring in the endless night,A point …
Dawn’s Lotus
At dawn the silent water softly sighs, A lotus stirs beneath the amber sky, Unfolding where the shadowed river lies. From ancient mud it lifts its crown on high, A fragile flame that night could not confine, As first light paints its petals warm and dry. Each silken fold awakens line by line, A breath …
The Whispering Stone
When daylight fades and silent deserts breathe, The temple walls begin their quiet speech; In chiseled lines where ancient shadows seethe, Old voices stir beyond the scholar’s reach. Each mark a pulse of memory long sealed, A story sleeping in the patient stone; By moonlit touch their hidden truths revealed, They rise as if the …
The Hypostyle That Breaths Back
The air in the hypostyle hall isn’t air anymore. It’s a tongue—thick, dry, licking the salt from my back. We’re not supposed to be here after dusk. But the overseer’s whip had a splinter, and I bled on the Pharaoh’s stone. So now I wait. Kneeling. Knees in the dust that tastes of old copper. …