On Being Pagan

Today I offer up this poem. A blessed Alban Eilir to you all…

On Being Pagan

Whether by chance or choice we walk a road unlike any other
There are no side roads on this route – it only leads forward
If we turn around, it disappears and we are lost

Most dare not even look down this path
Uneven, cloaked in darkness,
Root and stone, eyes in the night,
Shadow claws

They banish the darkness with Light
The place where they dwell is brightly lit,
but the scene never changes
And they sit,
Waiting for the story to come

We are different

Leaving the fire behind,
We step through the doorway and out under the open sky
Opening our arms to be embraced by the Night

We walk,
We stumble in the dark,
Tripping over tangled root, slipping on wet stone,
Falling,
Only to discover each time a new root, a different stone
With our ears close to the Earth, they share with us their stories,
new stories beyond the simplicity of good and evil,
stories of wonder,
of knowledge,
of inspiration,
fear and movement,
danger and intelligence,
violence and truth,
love,
lust,
joy,
birth and death,
Nature tales

In the darkness we find the stories,
And the stories illuminate
Before our eyes, light burst forth in rays of inspiration
Shining onto new vistas, new lands that few have seen
Lands filled with beauty beyond all imaginations.

Ever onward we travel down this road whose only sign post says,
“To Freedom”.

By Snowhawke /|\