This is from the Red Sands story written Beth Strong. The character Ashake is owned and copyrighted by Beth Strong. This poem may not be used without permission of the author.

The scene is when Rath has recovered from his illness that almost left him crippled and blind and how Ashake healed more than the scribe's wounds after Chontra ranked his soul bear.

by Elizabeth A. Strong

I was torn and broken with no words spoken

you came and took me in

My need so great you didn't hesitate

to tend my wounds so grave

As I lay in darkness, mourning my loss.

My hands crippled, my sight gone

I wondered what was to become of me?

What use is a scribe who cannot see?

You soothed my fevered brow with sweet sacred water

A voice like tiny silver bells hushed me saying

"All will be well."

Time slipped by at a even pace

Difficult to do in this black empty place

When my hands were whole, I asked if I could behold your tender face

Fingers delicately touched, traced every curve and line

Yes, even blind I would know thee!

I finally gazed upon you face and when you smiled it was then I knew the beauty and goodness that is the Light of Ra

Maat's Truth, nobody would ever be so graced.

Winds of change as lives go round

My love for you will always abound

For in your touch my heart has drown

Echoing truly in pure soul's sound

You gave to me a debt I can never repay--

With your limitless compassion, you loved me unconditionally

While trying to fulfill your destiny.

My lost and tattered soul you retrieved

Then like a weaver spun the pieces back

together in my mind's reprieve

You hold my life in your palm

Your touch is love's most sweetest balm

Beautiful healer, how can I repay this debt?

Knowing you, I know myself.

Mother, lover, sister, friend

Unknown to you my will you bend

A glance, a pace, a turn of your throat

fills my essence to overflowing

These and more are my spies in knowing

you as days pass by, in your place I would surely die.

Believer in life, you cleanse my soul's stain

Because of you, my heart is unchained

Beloved sister, my trusted friend, know this to be true

As Ptah is my witness---I love you!

Written by Beth Strong Java Goddess Jan. 1996

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