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Edited on Sun Sep-02-07 03:25 PM by BlueIris
—for a certain potential President, who is always blessed in my thoughts
"At the Ascension"
He takes His throne,
radiant, His shadow
stretched like a Cobra
charmed, his arrowed form
the gnomon of the world.
Watch over Him, Gods,
prays the scribe from his far corner,
recalling fathers' tales
of the last of This order, taken
as Reed by River in flood time—
the gash that split His crown
copied into the hearts of ten thousand men,
cleaved them clean as Papayas
halved on the market block
so they can be sold.
Watch over Him, Ra,
Isis, Ptah, Anubis.
He is that most rare of gifts—
a promise kept
the best it can be,
a Tree that can take root
if the Soil encircling it holds.
Let it hold.
Osiris,
should He owe obeisance,
use mine,
these offerings of pen and scroll,
whatever clemency Reeds earn
turning ink into Message.
Should You require sacrifice,
take me.
—Jennifer Rollings
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