slip-sliding away…..

Gentle swaying below
of this ancient waterway
as we sail along
this blessed river.

Vegetation on its banks
lush –
abundant:
date palms towering,
leaning,
with rusty brown desert mountains beyond.

A once mighty
ancient
civilisation –
ruling elite atop
the poor masses,
as military authoritarianism reigned –
still the case
thousands of years later,
as traders and common folk
harass foreigners
for dollars, pounds, and Euros –
colonisers’ currencies far stronger
than that of this pillaged land.

Quran rings out
from a passing town –
Allah’s word strong within
the hearts
of these resilient people;
for
what brings one closer
to God
than the desperate struggle
of day-to-day survival?

A train passes in the distance,
under electrical pylons,
in these lands of ancient ruins:
temple after temple,
tomb after tomb,
workers slaved to build
monuments
for egotistical rulers
who believed themselves great –
yet still valued
their Hereafter more
than their royal lives on Earth.

Tales spun
in hieroglyphs
along tomb walls and tunnels,
wishing
for their gods’ acceptance.

Ornate masks and jewelry,
sarcophagi of stone,
obelisks and more –
the once-grand signs
now relics
studied,
marveled at
by archaeologists
and tourists alike –
holidaying mobs
swarming
to snap precious moments
before returning
to the mundanity
of a life so ordinary back home.

The sun’s decline
approaches,
though smog and mountains conceal
his departure from sight,
as we approach
our next port.

The next sights
predictable,
wares
well-known,
experienced for me
once again
after 28 years…
now all grown.

And when,
from this ship I depart,
it won’t be long before home beckons
and my new year starts.

Maghrib athaan* rings out,
the vessel sails along.
Time to pray,
as life moves on…

—
* Call to prayer at sunset.