David Cauldwell

Khumyt, Princess of the Nile

David CauldwellComment

A love affair across the ages.

The girl on the train. The boy working in a café. Strangers, yet the body recognises them. From somewhere.

This poem/piece came after a Temazcal, or traditional sweat lodge. Just before entering the darkness of the lodge, my eyes locked with a beautiful girl’s. And it was literally like walking down a corridor back into Egypt. I haven’t seen her since, and perhaps whatever connection I felt doesn’t need to explored in this lifetime, but I’m not so secretly hoping that our paths cross again, and that maybe I’ll get to sail down the Nile in the eyes of an ancient Priestess.

For you, Kuwani, and for anybody else who has ever been beguiled by a fleeting encounter that has left a lasting impression. Share you stories by leaving a comment…


Down the corridor of her eyes
Deepest recognition
Remembrance stirring 
How my body has yearned for hers
For many moons it has dreamed
Of fluttering away in the frolic of her eyelashes
Of being held still in her embrace
Unlocking everything with a single smile
Priestess, siren, confidante, lover
Your iridescent sovereignty hums deep within my cells
Your spell paves corridor complex
No choice but to follow this intricate design
Your eyes, Khumyt, the perfect mosaic
Sun sizzling brightly brimming over Nile banks
Across time lines
Priestess of pearls weaves ways
Ties ribbons around the waist of the world