When did you first listen to the tale of Kephera?
In your grandam’s lap or at the feet of the goddess?
No life exists without the Scarab god Kephera.
Each day he rises from the dung heap of horizon
to ease the solar globe from the clutches of night.
My ancestors and I attend the daily ritual
for no dung heap exists in the galactic center
without the skill of earthworms.
We are dawn’s assistants
to He Who Raises the Sun,
the Keeper of Cycles of Light and Dark.
It is I who attend the daily alignment of stars.
When you remember Kephera,
Remember me as one of service
to the greater good.
C.J. Prince
©2016
C.J. Prince Poet 