Remembering Abu Simbel by Andrew Shephard
Remembering Abu Simbel Twice yearly at the equinox a golden spear pierces early vapour (sometimes setting clouds on fire) arrows along the Grimescar Valley until, encountering an obstacle to its interstellar path (my house, my cave, my temple) it rips through a curtain crevice to slay my dream-bound sleep with blood-red light, changing me in a single strike from sleeping animal to waking god.