Beloved Maahes

by Teri Sharp

You come to me Maahes, in my dreams;
You say I've forgotten you, or so it seems.
As you stand before me, regal and tall,
I remember how your shadow would cover all
The countryside, for miles around—
I've not forgotten your feline brow, double-crowned.
Your chants I once sang under desert sun,
And slept nestled in your fur when day was done.
You smiled at me, your eyes so bright
They lit up even the darkest night;
Your long mane brushing the temple floor;
The bemused look on your face I came to adore.
In dreams, Maahes, you ask if I've forgotten
Of whose love I was begotten,
And your presence sparks a visual ember
Of times I've forgotten I did not remember--
Of festive ceremonies along the Nile,
Your priestesses walking single file,
Leading a procession of solemn prayer;
You have peeled back my past, layer by layer,
Of being pledged to your service at my birth,
Knowing your severity would soon be followed by mirth;
Knowing, as I sat beneath the palm's gentle sway
That you were my destiny from the very first day.
No, beloved Maahes, I haven't forgotten
The bond of love that between us was begotten.