Mnemonic for Middle Egyptian Alphabet

The vulture from the reed leaf flew
And landed on the reed leaf two
The arm which reached the quail chick's foot
Then reached a stool and on it put
A horned viper!
The owl above the water swooped
It's mouth as an enclosure drooped
And dropped the rope - a big descenta!
Upon the floating there placenta.
Animal bellies and bolts of doors
And folded cloth may be in stores
But pools and hills and basket lands
Are seldom far from old jar-stands.
A loaf of bread is not a hobble
A hand can't make a cobra bobble!

Saturday, July 25, 2009

The Pillow of Hands

The Pillow of Hands

I rest upon the pillow of heaven, the cradled hands of my father. I lift my head; my mouth fills with words and wonder. Stars explode into being. The wind pulses through the valley - the hot heart and breath of god. I am flesh of my father's flesh. His sorrows are mine, his joys, his spirit. I rest on the pillow of his hands. The fallen shall rise and the uprisen shall fall. He shall comfort them. Sleepers wake and the awakened forget; such rhythm is the restless tide. I rise gently, fall softly. There is no struggle, no more tormented dreams on the pillow of his hands, Oh Osiris.


Awakening Osiris - A New Translation of The Egyptian Book of the Dead
Normandi Ellis
Page 181

ISBN
0933999747
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2 comments:

Che Rex said...

You're writing all kinds of deep stuff. I can't compete with that. I'm writing about eating candy and watching the cats sleep.

Its gonna be a long day.

July 25, 2009 at 12:13 PM
Sesheta said...

I am copying and pasting and typing out of books because I lack your creativity. Your blog is much more interesting. Mine is much more Virgoan :)

July 25, 2009 at 1:19 PM

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