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July 14 , 2005
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Fate she spits upon those that can be so pious and give merit to the unjust
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Posted at 21:45 EST
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The priests try to tell me that she will ressurect. Osiris will see her to her new home and all will be well. All that I could see was her youth in the faces of her young sons. All that I could hear was the sobbing of her husband. She was no more and nothing could qwell the pain of knowing that this life was no longer an option to share with her. Whom am I? Just a friend that shared many secrets and laughter with her dark eyes. Still it does not compare to a child that will wake at night and call to her only to be met with silence and darkness. Priests you do not give me cause to celebrate. The gift is gone from us. We who must remain have to find a way to live still. It is at these moments I wonder if it can be possible. Tell that to the grieving eyes of her husband and children. Still I will sit and we will dine outside her tomb for one last feast together. Then it will be sealed and we will be left with withered flowers and memories that have become colder than than the tomb that she now resides within. I will be there for her sons as they cry. My shoulder will be their pillow just till they can find strength again. All the while I ask myself where is my shoulder over the loss of a dear dear friend? |
July 9 , 2005
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Morning comes too early for the Priestess
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Posted at 11:00 EST
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I am sitting at my palette trying to make the brush strokes move n the direction to bring voice to my words. Even the direction of the geese change, so there is no direction to my voice. Where to begin? Or so it seems to say in all my attempts to put word to paper. Nefret entered my study, and quietly left a drink for me since I have been hours here staring into the space and making no progress. My cat is asleep at my feet patient as always, and always near.
The High Priest Senmut, has concerns that there may be some thievery in the temple. Grain storage and other goods are not consistent with inventory taken. Though all plead ignorance, Senmut will start by having a priest there to oversee the inventories. We may have to change the workers to see if this problem will improve.
I think I should go to the garden. There is still some shade and Re is low enough so that his heat is not too strong. I can take time to read the new hymn that Senmut has written for the upcoming festival of She who knows all Names. It is funny that he turns to me for approval. My father saw it necessary that I would know how to write and sent me to scribe school for it. Oh those days and the teachers switch! Still I excelled and even Pharaoh was pleased. Still Senmut admits that his own priests and even some of the scribes know less that they should.
He is critical, but I guess it completments me since he trusts no other. I should write to my old teacher and tell him the success with his switch. |
July 4 , 2005
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Along the Banks of the Great River
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Posted at 13:00 EST
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I took a walk today with my servant Nefret. She and I went to the waters edge, simply to walk and watch the people and to allow the river to quell my thoughts and give me a respite from the jumble of things that sometimes clutter my mind. The day was bright as only Re could create, the warmth of the sun felt comforting against my skin though the heat could be relentless. We stopped at a small embankment where the rush of the river was calmer and more inviting. We slipped off our sandals to feel the coolness of the water. I stood there listening to the rivers song, the great voice that sings, always calling out and soothing. Funny I thought to myself that most people never hear the song. Nefret was too busy playing with the minnows at waters edge to notice. |
June 22 , 2005
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infinitessimal reasons
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Posted at 11:00 EST
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I walked the overgrown path to your door. The weeds have taken hold to where once my footprints were commonplace. It was as if there was no path at all. Still my feet took me faithfully along the way to your doorstep, the memory was still as strong as if it was yesterday. I brought a basket of bread and figs and beer for you, but the lintels of your per were now home to many spiders and the webs had shown no one has passed through it in many days. I quietly ask Hathor for peace of my mind. Though that has not been a reality for some months now. I have grown use to the ache that allows my mind to wander and not focus in the life that is mine now. Still, I touch the posts of wood looking for a feeling that your life is still near and not away to places unknown to me. I hold back the tears, reminding myself that I will not cry another tear, and that I must let go. And how can I? I am here, at your door...with a pain as raw as if it happened yesterday...and yet it did happen yesterday......many yesterdays....but my heart does not know the difference. Now the tears fall....OH Hathor give me peace! |
June 18 , 2005
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foggy mind and dishelved tresses
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Posted at 23:00 EST
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Sowret's parties will be my downfall. I do enjoy so,his generosity, but the wine constantly flows in my cup and now I am home it is late my tresses are awry and my head is full of too much wine. Tomorrow I will suffer due to his over zealous generosity of his wine and had I stayed longer he was very generous with other things as well that I should not even mention. He is handsome enough, but I cannot allow such liberties, it would be unbecoming of my duties to the Great Lady. Still I think of his touch...even with my good byes...they linger all to long on my skin. |
June 17 , 2005
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I can tear my hair out
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Posted at 22:00 EST
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That cat of mine plays folly with my mind and sometimes I think Bast has given me this creature to lay torment to my soul. I think Bastet befuddles me since I am the special servant of Aset and she is jealous of my attentions to her. I dont understand! Do I not keep your shrine on the East side of my per to be first to feel the out stretched arms of Re when he rises? Do I not give you expensive oils to annoint you with and keep fresh flowers at your feet everyday? Do I not pay your priests their due for the blessings you choose to bequeath me? Have I not been a dutiful servant?
Still you remain mute to me, and send me this creature that you dare to call your own. It is a demon in disguise and sees fit to leave its dying and dormant catch in my bed clothes! It hides in the shadows and attacks my feet as if they were the field mice near the river. It sees fit to wail throughout the night keeping me from sleep, and then less attentive to the demands of my duties.
Wretched creature! You taunt me and my patience is thinning. I may have to return you sooner to the arms of Bast before she calls to you.
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June 15 , 2005
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The Rise of the Sun
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Posted at 10:00 EST
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Clouds cover the face of the horizon. I cannot feel the warmth of Re's out stretched arms on my skin. The days have been relentless with his strength and he has seen fit to be more gentle with his people and give us respite from the intensity of his light.
I came to Aset's temple to call her to waken. My sisters and I sang our psalms and oiled the goddess anew and clothed her for the day then with the rising of Re's light she was bathed and refreshed. The day began with our songs and sounds from the sistrum.
I decided to walk back to my per. My cat, waited at the door, with a huge rat as a gift by its feet. She was a proud huntress, and though I wanted to recoil, the look on her face said everything about her wish to please me. I picked up my dear pet and carried her to the garden, while signaling the servant to do away with "gift". |
June 14 , 2005
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The muse has returned
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Posted at 23:00 EST
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It has been too long that my words have withered from the tree and I remain dumb to the gods. If our great river should become as dry as the thoughts in my head our Kemet would perish under the weight of Re's strength. I know not what I can think except that a muse has taken pity on my shriveled abilities of the word and had given me sustenance again. I am growing and the words are filling me again with hope and joy. Now I can again raise my reed to pen the psalms to the Great Lady. My prayers will again sing in pitch and rhythm to Her heaven. I will have a heart in joy to be able to sing again in thanks.
Menet, has been busy watching over the weaving. The linen that was harvested this year is fine and strong and will make wonderful cloth. I plan to make a new girdle for the Pharoah one that will surround him with protection; the gods will find it to be so fine they will not refuse to rain blessings upon his greatness. When the Pharoah smiles, the great river will give forth its waters for our lands and fish for our tables. All will be well again in Kemet. |
June 28 , 2004
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On being home in the arms of Re
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Posted at 22:30 EST
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It was a long arduous journey over the sands. My lips still bleed from the harshness of Re's arms that stretch and protect our lands from outsiders, but we that journey must also bear the weight of Re's strength. In time my lips will heal and I will sing again the praises of the great barge as it rises in the East to bless our land. I did not think that the fine linen found in the foreign soil could compare to ours, but I was wrong and likewise the delicate wool that I have found willbe well in the cool nights when the days shorten.
Oh it is good to taste the wines of my home again! Menet my servant was so good she cooled a cask in the river so I could have a welcome draught from the long journey. And there were bread and figs from the trees to sate my palate...simple tastes that only comforted me in my dreams while away. Now I am home and I shall sleep well and safe under the watchful eye of Aset. At sundown I will anoint the goddess at the temple with the oil I bought for her from my trip...all will be well. |
October 12 , 2003
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A day that Bast cried
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Posted at 17:54 EST
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I was at the temple of Bast leaving the incense that the caravan had brought from the East in the lands of Babylon. My eyes fills with tears as I prayed and sought solace. My favored cat was now back gracing the golden plains where Bast resided and I was left alone without my wisened companion that was my voice to the Goddess. Now I stood a wretch the linens of my dress unkempt, my wig in need of replaiting, and the kohl on my eyes blinding me as my tears flooded my face and washed the colors down my cheeks like prismatic rivers. I could do nothing my wise voice now silent, my companion to the keeper of the hearth no longer it was all I could do to allow the priests ready her limp body to the regions where Bast would welcome her worthy to her realm. I felt so alone, abandoned and isolated. I could only now stand before the great Lady and plead for compassion to my pain and loss. |
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