Thoughts on a woodcarving of a minor official & his wife…

…proto-dynastic Memphis – Exhibit in Hall 17, Louvre
by Steve Coe

These two tranquil figures moved me greatly, when I first saw them in the Louvre, over 30 years ago. They looked vulnerable, but yet somehow strong in their togetherness. With a sense of wonder, it suddenly struck me that they had already been immensely old when mighty Rome was yet a dusty village straddling an unimportant river crossing. The museum was full of the greatest works of man, but neither the wealth and power of the kings and pharaohs on display, nor the beauty of the magnificent art treasures, impressed me ever so much as this very ordinary couple, who had left nothing but themselves. Their fundamental humanity, decency, and the love that they had once shared for each other was still so very apparent. Back then, I was young and also in love, myself. However for those of us, who still walk this earth, life goes on, and gradually takes its insidious toll on our bodies, our affections and the commitments that go with them. We get over our losses, eventually even the most poignant memories are just excess baggage to be put aside …. But then I saw the photograph of these two old friends of my youth in a recent book. Half a lifetime had passed for me and I was a different person now, “something lost and something gained, by living every day” – but for them nothing had changed. The experiences of all those long years, since my joyful days in Paris, were but the blinking of an eye compared to the immense passage of time, since that distant Egyptian day, when the statues were taken west of the Nile to be prepared by the priests for the “opening of the mouth” ceremony. The ritual that would guarantee that the “ka”, or life force, of each of the lovers would live forever in the statues and that they would be close to their chosen one for all eternity. Old feelings came flooding back to me and I wrote my poem.

It seems long, long ago,
That wet, grey-wintered Paris day,
When I first saw the two of you,
Standing all alone in the silence of the shadows.
|Two lovers, safe within a private peace,
Calm, content to remain forever,
Amidst dreams once shared,
As lovers often are.

What ancient, ever-living dreams,
Running like threads of silver through the fabric of time,
Have nourished and sustained you gentle dreamers,
Throughout all your long, abundant feast of infinity?
While my own poor portion,
My brief rind of time,
Has already dimmed my eyes
And all but slipped away.

Yesterday,
Before the clamour grew,
Before first pharaoh dawned
To shake his fist and wear the double crown,
Standing together beside living mother Nile,
You watched your golden father of the sky
Tease rich azure,
From the home of crocodiles.

An artist, who loved you both,
Shared your spirits with an ancient log.
A gift of the river,
Brought downstream from the forests of eternity,
And with caresses of copper and strokes of flint
He left you wooded in togetherness,
Arm in arm,
To await the ends of time.

© Steve Coe – February 1998