Amun's Breath

In Egypt's desert long ago,

my younger student self did stride,

with anxious friends close by my side.

We looked out past the countless dunes

at sands with buried ancient ruins.

A churning noise began to grow,

across the arid waste.

I turned my head to find the source,

as fear froze on my face.

I thought of Egypt's gods that day,

as walls of sand were lifted high

and blotted out the summer sky,

propelled toward us on Amun's breath,

this harbinger of dusty death.

Amun's breath engulfed us then.

The grit scoured clean our skin,

our mouths and ears were caked with sand,

our ears made deaf by wind.

And when at last the storm had passed,

when blue skies reigned galore,

our battered bodies sucked in air

and we could breath once more.

We heeded Amun's warning then,

and headed homeward bound,

without intruding on his realm,

no buried cities found.

Just grateful for our meager lives

which came so close to death,

from forces we could not control,

from Amun's mighty breath.