She beckons Earth underfoot
Time for Seasons to reset
Goddess of Egyptian Spring, Renpet
Palmshoot reaching, curving, sprouting
Desires let

To fertility of world She sings
Commanding what nature must
Warmth of fresh sun dewed lust
Birth and growth She informs
Of equal trust

Datenut ***** are running slim
Provisions of winter running out
Time for Spring pea planting, no doubt
For Renpet knows and ends
A knowledge drought

Her reign is rain
And this wetness is welcome
Sprouting what just, shall come
Amending reason and truth
She'll come

She stood still before the choas; unshaken.
The wind blew its mighty breath against Her core but to no avail; unmoved.
Her coffee'd skin warm like the sun that kisses the Earth's horizon.
Something within Her had risen without warning nor permission:
She was a Goddess, in Her own right.

Brown. The soft tone of the Earth.
Golden hue painted widely across the canvas of Her *****.
Her skin like caramelized silk, with the sunglow of Egypt itself.

She pressed Her face to the Earth's floor and moved mountains with Her prayers.
Queen of the meek, ambassador of the poor.
She was the perfect amalgam of beauty and brokenness.
~The Goddess of Humility.

I could show you such things as you never have seen
But I'd have to go back on my oath
An oath I never made, but which
Stuck with me, the most sacred of things
So sacrosanct that even to say the words of the oath itself
Would be to break it.
Rarely is holiness so raw
Yet when that place is found
When the moon descends
And the water rises
Something shifts: and the veil is slightly lifted
But only slightly, for
Personne ne peut enlever la voile d'Isis
Even if we know how
Especially if we know how
Yet sometimes, gods willing,
It thins itself slightly
But only slightly, and
We catch a glimpse of the way things really are:
The way things could be.