Ancient Desert Trilogy

Imbued Craftsman
from flickering pitch to starry night
to breathe the air
gritty, though it is
my chisel hushed
in my throbbing hand
this day, two
their tools stilled
we know, we all know
the limestone depths
rate immeasurable souls
maybe my own

Engineer Whip
I step out of
a scrolled tent
onto the cooling sands
as Ra beds down
another day-tally
scores to go
in fabrication
of the final vessel
for our beloved
ruler of the cosmos

Ethereal King
my feeble eyes
joyfully beholds this
book of the dead
foretelling my fate
across, there
a marbled boat, my craft
to bear my soul
I cannot wait
to wrestle Osiris
for control
of the sky

All poems © 2011 DC Lessoway

3 Comments

  1. I liked these–too tired to be more succinct (I’m filming at the moment and it is a bit horrendous!). I will try to comment when I can keep my eyes open:)

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