A presence

No single thing, not pyramids alone,

Nor Sphinx nor modern street,

Nor black land’s donkeys

nor red land’s camels.

 

Instead, a cascade of whispers:

Antique shards and modern beginnings,

Unreadable hieroglyphs, unreadable Arabic.

And always the Nile, always the desert sand,

 

Awakening ghosts to the ruin of their world.

Arousing one feeling, resolute, calm,

Unshaken amidst desolation.

It said: “I still serve Ra.”

 

One thought on “A presence

  1. I love this poem. No comments can do justice to it.

    This also puts me to face the reality of what do I serve? To know and be connected to that which I serve is a big deal. It is what makes this life more than just a drama.

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