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Hathor, I've known you my whole life,
though only recently have I come to speak your name.
You were the shadowy one who stood in darkness
whispering,
"Fear not, my child, when you've reached the end of your
days,
for to me you'll come, transformed into one of the brilliant
stars
which burn in the night-time sky."
And you were the warmth I felt as I lay in my lover's
arms,
our skin slick with sweat, the world made perfect through
our union.
And you were the urge I felt to dance,
to rise up on my feet and twirl about,
carried high on the wings of song,
though I am clumsy, a creature of turgid earth.
I felt you all about me as I'd go out on my nightly
walks,
your slender frame manifest in the waifish tree trunk,
your laughter echoing in the rustling leaves.
And I knew you on those rare nights of drunkeness,
when beer had made my head dizzy,
and I dropped my guard and joked with my friends,
telling witty stupid stories that would never dare pass my
sober lips.
So yes, I knew you for quite some time,
though your name had always eluded me.
But when Hekatawy, my King, pronounced me your child,
I could only laugh because it was so right,
in ways she never could have known.
Everything was so obvious,
and all I wondered was how I'd never seen it before.
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