On this anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, I was wracking my brain for New Orleans or Gulf Coast literature to quote, and then I came across this in a book I’m reading. It seems mysteriously apropos.
Listen, my heart, and bewail the fortune of thy land. Weep, O Heart, alone; for there is none to comfort you. Look, my heart, at the sun which is neither rising nor setting but hidden by clouds. Look at Egypt’s Nile, its waters shrinking. Look at the cattle roaming without a shepherd, and the ships no longer speed to the Phoenician shore. The scales of justice have been thrown out on the road to be trodden under the heel of every passer-by. Nothing remains of justice but the name, and in that name crimes are committed. The ululations of weddings have died down and in their place are wails and screams to be heard.
Is this not the land of Ra? When will the Good Shepherd rise to its rescue? He whose heart knows no desolation, He who spends His day gathering His stray cattle and leading them to water? When will he come to tear out evil by the root? To annihilate the seed of evil even before it takes root? Where is He? Where is He today?
Ab-U-Or (2030 BC)