The Precession Of The Equinox (Dusks Antikythera) Poem by Marcus McKinley

In this Sothic year, the cycle of šár
The orrery aligns its esoteric lock
Only Dusk holds the key to this clock
Tick, tock, tick, tock…..
When he rises, so too shall Sopdet
Upon the tails of his shadowed cloak

Resetting the mill of time, his mission
He waits……
Eagerly, for his haloed queen
And his release from penumbra

In turn, freeing Dawn
From her path of totality
Beneath the boughs of the willows umbra
And to his queen, his total loyalty

Upon the west bank of the Nile
He sits with the Dweller in Amenta

Upon his shadowed face
sets joy.....
Amid a tranquil scene
He contemplates the onslaught of Ra
And the aftermath, of this great deed

Her message he did heed
Life is death postponed, he thought
But, now he thinks betwixt
Within this cycle of the sun
He envisaged this:

A grave mistake is often made
Death, is not postponed
The weeping willow, provides no shade
In death, life is atoned

Soon all life will begin again
With the rising of the sun
Peace will glean our souls once more
When my deed is done