The Red Earth Jar

 

in the sweat of December ‘45

when I was one,

a peasant led his camel

to the mountains of Jabal.

he dug up Sabakha,top soil,

at Hammadi Caves,

for his garden.

his steps echoed

in the chambers

of buried Egypt.

 

his blade intoned a strike.

he scraped the contours

till an urn emerged -

half the measure of a man.

he traced its neck and buttocks,

wondering. his blood-beat up,

he raised his mattock

and smashed it to starry shards.

he resurrected no gold, no silver,

but papyrus, Coptic script,

caught in loose leaf and leather,

one embossed with an ankh.

 

his camel carried his find

dumping it at his mother’s oven.

she fed straw and shredded leaves

to the fire. the rest she gave

to a village priest

who passed it on to a reading one.

 

so word by word

the news spread throughout the land.

Ali al Samman’s mattock

had unstopped the Gnostic gospels.

from a 2000 year sleep,

the jinn leapt from the red earth jar.

 

Poems by Dorian Haarhoff