Commissioned "Prayer of Isis"

The wonderful sannion is currently doing a creative writing pledge drive to earn money for an especially prized book.

I requested a prayer or hymn of Isis and her love for the dead Osiris, and he just posted this beautiful composition on his House of Vines blog.




The Prayer of Isis

Each year the cranes fly back to Egypt

and the flowers show their lovely faces in due season

but you, my beloved, remain far from me

even after all this time,

alone in your house of dust and shadows,

a place where I can never go.

All I have to console my bitter heart

is the thought of your kisses

and the way you’d touch my soft cheek,

whispering, “My dear sister, my precious heart …”

But I guess I wasn’t precious enough for you to take me with you

to your house of dust and shadows,

a place where I can never go.

You asked me to rule in your stead,

to keep your kingdom strong and well-governed,

but what do I care for such things

without you here by my side?

I see the happy faces of our people,

and I wonder how they can feel any joy

when their rightful king is gone,

and his throne lies empty.

It’s hard to endure when everything is so pregnant

with memories of you.

Here by the river is where we used to walk

when the moon hung low in the sky

and the geese would cry so loud and raucous

that it made you laugh.

And this vineyard you planted

because you loved the taste of the juice on my fingers

when I fed you plump grapes.

Or the wide halls of the council chamber

where you used to sit in judgment

listening with equal deliberation to the

plaints of the high-born nobles

and the lowly men of the fields,

always giving a pronouncement

that rang with truth and justice

and left both parties satisfied.

Do you have such things

in your house of dust and shadows,

a place where I can never go?

They are here,

along with thousands of other things that remind me of you,

but you are not

and I ache with loss.

Will I ever see your handsome face again,

or feel your strong arms enfold me

as you make love to me like a virile bull?

Even one more night with you in the flesh

would be enough to soothe my wretched grief,

and even better if that night

led to the filling of my womb

with a child of yours

who could take your place on the throne

and rule the land as his father had.

Even more than the loss of you,

I am pained by the knowledge that I failed as a wife,

and did not give you a son and heir.

And that will never be

since you have gone

to your house of dust and shadows,

a place where I can never be.