The Eye of Horus

When the waters of the Nile withdrew,
a whisper spread among the reeds of the delta,
like the breath of the wind:
the name of ancient times — Osiris.

This wise king, who spoke with the earth
and understood the language of stone,
had taught humankind how to harvest crops,
measure the land,
and share the waters with fairness.

Order itself breathed through him;
night and day exchanged places by his name.

“As long as Osiris walks the soil,
the seed shall not fear,
for the heartbeat of the land echoes with his steps.”

But there were shadows jealous of harmony.

Seth, the dry breath of the desert,
plotted with a mind that despised balance.

When Osiris lay down,
the chest embraced him as if it had been waiting.

The lid slammed shut, sealed tight —
and the chest was surrendered to the flow of the Nile.

Isis was not only his wife,
but the gentle breath of life itself.

With patience, she began her search —
tracing his presence like a mother seeking her child.

Isis did not despair.

With feathers, prayers, and forgotten songs,
she gathered his scattered parts.

Through word and breath,
she reassembled him.

Osiris became the ruler of Duat,
the realm beyond death.

From this reunion Horus was born —
the rising after the fall,
the rebuilding after ruin.

The Eye of Horus was not a trophy of war,
but a vision beyond sight

A symbol of protection,
healing,
and wholeness.