If I could stand on the banks of the Nile,
I would be standing there ten thousand years ago,
standing there in the First Time when the gods
walked the earth, the First Time which is
every moment. Ten thousand years, five
thousand, two thousand… it doesn’t matter.
The Nile flows. The land remembers,
in spite of the dam. The people remember,
despite the change in religion. And
I remember: the gods of my childhood,
the figures and the paintings in the museum,
Osiris of the crossed hands, Isis with her spread wings.