Isis & Ra: Acts 4-6

IV. Purpose

Isis studied Ra daily, but most of all she marked those moments when he drew near earth--molten evening, when he dived like a dolphin toward dream.

Then, perceived she, he ate Hope.
It was an odd substance to her--with no discernible source—waxy, iridescent, and sweet.
She knew, because she followed his crumbs.
Even Ra, solid gold,
Lapis of hair and carnelian of eye,
Exhaler of sirocco and melter of the Nile,

With famine irrelevant,
He devoured it,
Hope.
Isis, scrambling after those crumbs, did hoard-- did curl and hoard and ponder when he was gone.
And what, she asked her darkness, does he hope?
She curled this way and that on her palette, when desperate, tasting--
She curled this way and that, and that, and that--as do we all.
Then,
She raged.
I have been, she cried, simple as a child.
He will no more answer me than will he say what I want him to say--
Could I even make him stop--
Well, he will stop.
For me, he will stop.
She sifted her remaining crumbs into a tiny alabaster bottle and ground its stopper in.
I will make him, she said.
He will stop.

V. Mistake

Some want to report it like this:
That Ra passing above her was old at day's end, and being old he drooled.
He doddered on, never saw her below, and therefore, none of what transpired was his fault.

But others dispute:
Do we think that the one we call Isis could not reckon where the buck sun leapt?

He noticed her, they say--after many circuits perhaps--
This woman in the dirt of his path.

The other tellers shrug. The serpent was made. Ra was bit.

As is usual, both these tales are true.
The sun gets young--
The sun gets old.
The sun gets young—and memory makes love to dark.

Anyway, it was complicated, this mission, far more than Isis had marked.

She positioned herself near Ra's journey's end
(Conveniently, in the village where she was raised)
For many had commented on how Ra's jaw as he grew sleepy fell slack
and spilled his dreamtime drool upon the earth.

So that first tale is true. Drool she easily got.

Home that evening she hurried with her treasure,
Mashed it with brown dirt and saliva, and of this mud a serpent she squeezed.

Next evening she laid it like a necklace in Ra's own path.
But Isis had not reckoned how sluggish was old Ra's spit.
The serpent peered up at its father, and did nothing but sip at some warmth.
Let us save up our hours, it whispered to Isis—save up, curl ourselves, and sleep.

Isis glared down at the slack snake warm on its rock.
My operation, she declared, has got to move.

So she packed up house and moved east.
East, where Ra surged up young.

VI. Epiphany

It was lousy at first—no one knew her,
and she had to hawk jewelry and incense
and hustle up luck- and love-charms
Just to get herself safe in that country
and sit unmolested along that road.

And then there was the problem of the Groupies of Dawn.
They were younger than Isis had ever been in her life.
Ra would hike a leg over the ridge
And steer his prow of solid gold--
The shrieks from below could split the ears of the deaf.

One had to wait until the throng were flattered and fucked and dispersed.
Isis worked parchment crosswords and drank thick dark warm breakfast beer.

On that very first morning, the clouds were gold smoke.
They spread and lay thick, as if they would cement the world.
But the Sun stepped up:
Like incense he waved them away.

Isis had been sitting,
playing at wari with a little girl orphan.
Dark seeds, then white ones, dropping in earth.

Suddenly--
Ra behind their backs.
Ra, inexorable,
Ra, unprepared for, strong.
Younger than your memory
Of a song.

Up Ra hiked, three mountains in a step.
Here was a young tree walking,
Ready, like a whip.
Here was the shadow of pelvis
Whipped open,blinding bright.
Open, forward, and bright.
The Groupies lay open their mouths and screamed.
Isis stood mute.
Where was I during all this? she inwardly yelled.
I sat but documenting his decline.
Here was the hour where Ra felt most himself.
He stretched his arms, he swung his fists,
He kicked back the ball with which the street kids played.
He boogied, and kicked it back.
Falcons screamed, and he screamed back.
The drunks and lovers groaned:
Ra took up their tones and made them mirth.

Isis stood, the game forgot.
The little girl pulled her dress—lady, it's your move..

It sure is, Isis said.

She gave the girl candy, and all her gold.
Not now, she told her. Not just now.
You win.

Isis stood like an anthill, watching Ra go.
Now she had her riddle:
He'll let you win: How?