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A poem
The Party
The printed invitation that fluttered on the mat
Said “You’re coming to a party, no arguments, that’s that.
It’s held for every pagan, it’s come just as you are
Being held just ‘round the corner, you will not need the car.”
Amazed and quite delighted I turned the invite round
To see who could have sent me this thing that I had found
The signature below it was bold, embossed and bright
It didn’t give a name, just – yours sincerely, Light.
How very, very thoughtful to think of asking me
Who’s loosely-speaking pagan, though highly label-free.
Whoever this bod “Light” was, a generous kind of soul
If getting all together was this party’s only goal.
Well the party was a belter and everyone was there
The heathens and the druids, the eclectics, Wiccans (dancing bare)
Kitchen witches swapping, their favourite recipes
With Egyptian-centred ladies who gave them kohl for free.
There was mead and wine and Celts who were arguing the toss
With Greek and Roman worshippers,( I didn’t hear who lost.)
I found a great big pot of tea, which is what I wanted most
Apart from my big intrigue … who was our charming host?
So I sat down in a corner with my mug of tea and bun
Inviting who’d invited us to come and share the fun
To come and sit beside me and tell me their true name
Cos while I like a party, I’m not good at guessing games.
And a voice from right beside me said “Please just call me Light.
Not Apollo, Lugh or Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, right?
I’m Astarte, Isis, Cernunos, and all the gods you know
And others you ain’t heard of … you’ll learn this as you grow.
Whatever people call me, I am the light to all
Who love all of creation, the greatest, the most small.
If you can see my handiwork in fur and feathered friend
In other folks and trees and stones – you’ll see me in the end.
So call me Light, beloved, and seek no other name
For I’m no-name and I’m all-names and I love you just the same”.
The printed invitation that fluttered on the mat
Said “You’re coming to a party, no arguments, that’s that.
It’s held for every pagan, it’s come just as you are
Being held just ‘round the corner, you will not need the car.”
Amazed and quite delighted I turned the invite round
To see who could have sent me this thing that I had found
The signature below it was bold, embossed and bright
It didn’t give a name, just – yours sincerely, Light.
How very, very thoughtful to think of asking me
Who’s loosely-speaking pagan, though highly label-free.
Whoever this bod “Light” was, a generous kind of soul
If getting all together was this party’s only goal.
Well the party was a belter and everyone was there
The heathens and the druids, the eclectics, Wiccans (dancing bare)
Kitchen witches swapping, their favourite recipes
With Egyptian-centred ladies who gave them kohl for free.
There was mead and wine and Celts who were arguing the toss
With Greek and Roman worshippers,( I didn’t hear who lost.)
I found a great big pot of tea, which is what I wanted most
Apart from my big intrigue … who was our charming host?
So I sat down in a corner with my mug of tea and bun
Inviting who’d invited us to come and share the fun
To come and sit beside me and tell me their true name
Cos while I like a party, I’m not good at guessing games.
And a voice from right beside me said “Please just call me Light.
Not Apollo, Lugh or Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha, right?
I’m Astarte, Isis, Cernunos, and all the gods you know
And others you ain’t heard of … you’ll learn this as you grow.
Whatever people call me, I am the light to all
Who love all of creation, the greatest, the most small.
If you can see my handiwork in fur and feathered friend
In other folks and trees and stones – you’ll see me in the end.
So call me Light, beloved, and seek no other name
For I’m no-name and I’m all-names and I love you just the same”.
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Comments
Palzang
Very nice Knit! Did you write that?
She's erudite, experienced, extremely clever, literate, multilingual and extremely learned in many fields which puts a lot of folk I know to shame.
In my view, she presents a facade that belies her true character, and let me tell you she is a precious and gifted 'Soul'.
No shot.
But it was immensely sweet of you to say so - t'es un tresor
(The 'bit soppy about animals' bit is true though. She is.) :thumbsup:
Loved it! More. more!!
I'll have a word with the muses and see if inspiration is in stock or I will have to order it for later.
Where shall I find the Horned Lord
Who leads the Wild Hunt?
In earthquake, tempest, flood?
No, look nearer,
Listen closer,
He is running in your blood.
And where shall I hear the Goddess
The Maiden, Mother, Crone?
In the gentle summer rain?
No, look nearer,
Listen closer,
She is speaking in your brain.
And where shall I see great Thor
The hammer-wielding Norse?
In his goat-drawn cart?
No, look nearer,
Listen closer,
He is thundering in your heart.
Where is darling Ganesh
Sweet elephant-headed god?
In the statue on my shelf?
No, look nearer,
Listen closer,
He sits smiling in yourself.
And where are all the pantheons
From every age of man?
In the earth or sky or sea?
No, look nearer,
Listen closer,
They’re in him and her and me.
Stanza? More a tantra I reckon. Very nice indeed.