Menu brought his gift to me in the skin of a pomegranate;
bestowed by the lips of sundown, its seeds spoke your lofty name.
This god of upraised arm delivered the sky into my hands;
a treasure that fills my grip as the river swells its banks.
You came at dusk to our sycamore of the sky, half-hidden by its branches;
“let only the moon see us” is what you said, as sky and bough were married.
What shone by the Moon-God was fruit of red beating in my hand;
the drum of your fingers spurred me on to find those heavenly heights.
Yours is a sanctuary hidden by the river, where pray my hands and knees;
Amun-Menu waits there for me with heaven and earth in hand.
His fist governs the holy river above which winks your navel;
I travel its sacred flood without leaving my earnest prayers.
Surely I have tasted the sky while keeping earth’s embrace;
a moonlight wine to warm my lips with vintage of your making.
Your field has a sun-heavy palm, though moon and stars come calling;
two golden dates swing low on my horizon where hungry eyes gaze high.
Shall I call you Amun in the shrine my breast keeps hidden?
The light you concealed warms my naked palm bereft of sacred flame.
Let me offer a hymn before you, stripped of pride’s pretenses;
with wine in my heart and gold on my lips I open the sky at your feet.
I give praise to Amun-Ra of golden horns and copper mirror;
whose full lips bring malachite rays to open earth’s horizons.
Sandalwood knows your secret names within the keep of heaven;
the earth becomes your scent of myrrh on banks of east and west.
I shed my cloak of royal linen to bend with tree and river;
acacia and flood who know their lord and give him what he favors.
What swells his heart is the boon of skin swaying on a breeze;
his eyes to drink the dip of thighs kissed by the dying sun.
What foretells the sky like earth, the mountains like horizon;
who foretells a god like a man, a husband like a lover?
My mouth predicts your flood, O Amun, my hands your burning rise;
and whose prayers predict the coming rain upon my desert thighs?
Amun brought his gift to me on the skin of my lover;
bestowed by the mouth of the sun after twilight claimed him.
This man of worldly mettle delivered the sky into my hands;
with wine in my heart and gold on my lips I open my soul at your feet.
All text copyright © 2016 Ptahmassu Nofra-Uaa