To Corey and Marcy March 9, 2013

Do you remember when we played so long ago in the mud of the rising Nile?

You and I as children giggling as we watched life spring forth

from what once was a sea of red sand

we played soldiers and slaves and some times you were Isis

and sometimes I was Osiris

but more often just a slave

Do you remember later standing up for me when soldiers came and Pharaoh decreed

that I, nameless, along with all the other nameless ones standing frightened in the reeds

was chosen to build a monument to his greatness and likely we, the nameless mass,

would die before its completion?

Chained we were as the soldiers marched us toward that site

barren

white

where we toiled through endless months of moving rocks

setting rocks

shaping

fitting

carving those narrow passages that only the closest to Pharaoh would know…

Remember how we counted our days wondering which one would bring us water or mead

and which would bring us darkness and never again..

Remember the lash of the whip

the cane

the cuts on our bodies

the harsh burn of our blistering skin

I remember your smile as you came for one after another

taking them to the altar of your husband, Osiris

I called him Khenti-Amentiu and you smiled ever brighter

You were the promise of a merciful death and he the provider

You stood up for me

gave my name to the wind

You stood up for all the other nameless ones and gave their names too

one by one you prepared your scales upon which our hearts

would be weighed against a feather of Ma’at

so important as it was the rite of your husband

who would then decide if and when

where and how

we would return to life again like the sprouts we played among on the shores of the rising Nile

Do you remember when we were young

laughing amongst the reeds

sensing we had stood there before

shaking at the will of a king

Remember when we looked down through dunes for the top of his tomb?

Knowing that once others looked up

Remember the actress’ voice as she portrayed Isis

and smiled at us

beckoning us toward the stage

where she had placed a scale

and a feather?

And remember the actor, Osiris?

In my mind I called him Khenti-Amentiu

and I held you close

knowing that some day we would again be granted mercy

and again our return decided.

You said you were a feather

I said I was a butterfly

As you slowly wafted toward the platen of the scale

I flitted playfully beneath, around and above you

laughing

free

To Corey and Marcy March 9, 2013

___M. Dennis Paul, Ph.D.