Joseph’s name was passed along to Pharaoh,
ruler of a troubled land.
A hope; whispered dream revealer.
When he appeared, mystic sparkle in one eye
his coat of many colors gleaming in
the dusty air.
Motes caught suspended in the August heat
Danced Divine and swirled knowingly in the courtyard.
The King recounted stories of barren cows
and fatted bulls
afraid to ask what it all
For seven years abundance will be upon this land,
then famine; lean years
eclipsed by seasons ever changing.
Be clever, my liege, and waste nary a
single grain or mite of source.
When shadows fall, have extra oil
thy lamps prepared
against a dark September day …
Eleven days elapsed
the towers fell, lightening flashed
a black sky clouded while
blood floated, surfaced upon the Nile.
Later, after it all was writ
diligence and sweaty brow; furtive…
alone in his small palace,
in a quiet suburb of Memphis,
where tall and stately ancient date palms
gentle rhythm in October’s evening breeze
(Not unlike the lusty bellies of his harem).
Wondered to himself
“Did I this tragedy create, then un-create
that I might be seen and heard
as Counselor, Oracle, Man of Wisdom?
Am I guilty of the sins my patrons suffer
that I might make my Fate?
Will I willingly change my mind;
or is this all
dreamed by a dreamer… dreaming me.
Unwinding time and starry sprinkled sky, designed
to make the dreamer wake?”
November 13, 2008