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 more remarkable time.
That our nuclear age, our rockets to the moon
just cannot compare with Tutankhamun's tomb
