I walked all the way out of the city and then let my path turn once more along the banks of the Nile, in again toward the lights of the modern world. I could not help but to stop and stare out over the water and think of the history there. I lifted my head up, almost smelling the wind for hints of the past, and yet in that, all I could see were memories I didn't want to own. My heritage was here, the heritage of us all: We Immortals. Akasha and Enkil had drank from this river, had walked perhaps in the very spot where I stood. As I turned and looked around, wondering how much blood these sands had drank before they were washed clean by time, I waited for the voices or the visions, and yet heard nothing but the wind as it moved past me. Tonight there was no spirit passing through my mind, and yes, I knew who it was I had heard in nights past. As I crouched down on the sand, letting a handful pass through my fingers. I thought of that time, of the glorious orgy of blood she and I had partaken of, the onslaught, the sacrificial, the supremacy. For a moment, I wanted nothing more than to be there once more in Azim's temple, drinking and feasting, at once horrified and exhalted. How I desperately wanted it, and because there was still that little percentage in me, I had heard his voice. Oh yes, in body he could never come to exact any revenge, but it should never be doubted that we Immortals have our own ghosts and persistent spirits to deal with from time to time, and recently, ah, I'd seen such things… such glorious visions that made me yearn for them in utter desperation. And yet, I had thought there was a wholly different connection to why I was seeing them. I didn't think it was an effort to torment me. No, not this time, I hadn't perceived it as such, and yet now, what I'd envisioned, the link or meaning behind those visions seemed in itself a joke. I would wear no such robes, would I? Ah, and the temple, yes… how it still stands in my mind, calling me, and yet I am so afraid to look upon it. Is it glowing from a dim torch or two, still lit inside, just waiting to be refueled, or has it already been burnt, and all I sense is the ambient light from the coals of destruction? I cannot bear to look, and dear God, I hate being afraid.
Eventually I found myself on the outside of the Karnak complex, and of course wandered where I wished easily undetected. It was one of the better perks of this life, and it made me think for a moment of all the things I'd done and seen with such ease. One smile perhaps, that was all I was allowing myself this evening. I went around the East side of the stone ruins and into what once had been the Temple of the Hearing Ear. Here had been an Egyptian confessional of sorts, where prayers had been offered up to Amun. Gone was the great obelisk, taken some long years ago to Rome for safe keep and display. Yet there were still the little nooks, broken down but discernable to my eyes where the common persons would have knelt and prayed to the Gods ears that were engraved almost undetectably now on the time worn walls. I traced my hand upon them, loving the way the rough grit of the sandblasted stone scraped against my skin. When I leaned my face against the cool, raised etchings, I could hear the voices of the past, singing souls so lost, so unreal to me now, and yet, somehow all a part of what I was. I knelt in the stones and rested my head against the closest wall. Amun, the Sun God, Osiris, all the spirits of the long dead Gods. Could they see me now for what I was; A small man, with incredible powers, alone and kneeling in a place so far from his home, afraid and unsure? I hated the thought of what I must look like, even as the blood tears spilled onto the crumbled surface beneath them. I thought of all of that, my history in an instant, fast forward to this night, and again it was too much to bear. All I could think to do was offer up words to the darkness as if I too were a common man from the very period, crawled into the temple like a thief to beg for absolution. Who do I pray to now? Osiris himself ? "Exalted art thou on thy throne, O Osiris! Thou hast heard fair things." Do I pray to my saints? Juan Diego and Assisi? Make me an instrument of thy peace, yes. Finally not knowing, I merely spoke to the air around me, hoping someone would hear.
Let peace be restored. Let the rivers meet once more, let us find one another again, please, all of us. Oh please grant us the strength, the desire, the courage, dear God grant us the courage to go on, to love one another and to overcome. Let us have belief, and cast away all the hurt, please,oh.. please…
I fell down into a small position with the last word from my lips and thought of all that in just a few nights had passed and broken, and smashed, and been kicked and the wounds, oh my love all the wounds. I could see the blood when I closed my eyes, and it made me long to heal, to pick up the injury and caress it with my mouth until no more did it weep.
For all of them, for myself, please restore the wholeness. Let us live once more in the light, in the love of all we have and desire. Erase the confusion and contempt. Let us speak in peace and believe once more.
To whom I prayed was inconsequential as I lay in the darkness with the sand shifting around me. All that mattered was that somewhere, somehow it was heard. Who was I to pray and request such things? It was more my style to rail against the forces of nature and whatever karmic hand that might be guiding my own nights and the lives of those I loved to a place that might be exactly where we deserved to be. And yet there I was, lying in the dirt and ancient waste as surely as I ever had on any chapel floor, and wanting again to be heard, even for all the hurt I'd unduly caused which perhaps should have me exactly where I was at that moment.
Please… reach me. Touch me, Bring me home once more. Deliver us from such uncertainty. Let the love be restored... for us all.
For the longest time I lay there, until I could instinctively feel the coming of the sun, and then, spent of my tears, I rose into the sky as I had so very long ago. This dawn I was not seeking my demise as I went onward toward my darkened rooms in the opulent luxury of the hotel. I merely sought to sleep, and to dream of prayers being heard, and benevolent Gods answering. It was all I hoped, and all I wanted.