Published May 15th, 2025
by Stuart McFarlane
As dawn reveals Luxor, I watch ancient temples rise
and strangely do I feel I am watched by other eyes.
This is not a dead land, these not merely monuments
to an heroic age, whose being is somehow lent
a ghostly presence by these structures in the sand.
These are living stones – ageing, yes – yet still they stand
against the desert storms, across the centuries.
The thrusting columns, tombs, an enigmatic frieze –
they entrance by their very impossibility.
That once thought could conceive of, then find ability
to construct such massive stones, defies belief.
Perhaps, as we turn away, it's with relief
that we now settle back to more familiar things.
For we feel ill at ease in the valley of the kings.
Reluctantly, we realize what they underline –
that this truly was a far nore remarkable time.
That our nuclear age, our rockets to the stars
just cannot compare with Tutankhamun's tomb.
About the Poet
Stuart McFarlane resides in Edinburgh, Scotland.
Read the poet's biography on Stuart McFarlane's Artist Page.
This poem is included in Poetry World #12,
published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in United Kingdom Poetry Magazine:
Raison D'Etre
by Howard Osborne
UK Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
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