Remember the Old Ways

One of my elective classes for my degree program was Introduction to Poetry. For my course project, I wrote an original poem. This is that poem.

Within the circle of stones, the priestess stands,

She calls upon the powers of sky, sea, and land.

She chants the words from Ancient Lore.

Once forgotten, now, not no more.

 

Those who watch call her an evil witch,

Fueled by lies and misperceptions together stitched.

In their fear, they fall to the ground.

Their cries echoing in the hills all around.

 

Then the Goddess appears with tears in her eyes,

Gently She asks them, “Why do you cry?

Please open your minds; try to understand

There is nothing evil about honoring the land.

 

You call her evil because the Old Ways she follows,

Yet, you live lives that are empty; hollow.

You are caught up with power; with money, and things.

You’ve forgotten how to laugh; to dance; to sing.

 

You pollute and destroy, seek to dominate the land.

You covet and steal food from each other’s hands.

You fight about religion and whose way is right,

Refusing to see the harm caused by your strife.

 

All Gods and Goddesses are one in the same,

It matters not what you choose for my name.

There is no fear in the Ways of Old.

You would know that if you looked deep in your soul.”

 

They stood and looked upon the Lady of Grace,

Standing there with tears still on Her face.

Some turned with a sneer and they did depart,

Those who remained had opened minds and hearts.

 

As the Goddess watched the hard-hearted go,

The tears down Her face continued to flow.

The people remaining asked, “Why do you cry?”

Silently they awaited the Lady’s reply.

 

The priestess continued to chant on the hill,

Chanting words filled with love and power to heal.

 

 

“It makes my heart heavy,” the Goddess finally said,

“To see my children so lost and misled.

In lives past, the Old Ways you embraced.

You chanted and danced with joy on your face.

In your soul lay the memories of the Ancient Lore.

Go within; remember; call them forth.

 

Still, there remain those who remember my ways,

Caring for the earth; humanity, no matter what others say.

The greatest gift you can give to others is love.

For as on earth, so it is also above.”

 

With those final words, the Goddess was gone.

In the light of the moon, they were standing alone.

Then, if as drawn by an invisible will,

They suddenly turned and looked on the hill.

 

In the circle of stones, the priestess still stands,

Reaching to embrace the Goddess with outstretched hands.

 

 

By Raven Williams © 052012

Reviews

[MAC]

This is an excellent poem. Very well crafted and creative. Looks and feels professional, should be part of a published book.

[Raven Williams]

Thank you for your kind words. Actually, it is included in my first self-published book, Mystical Musings. :D

[MAC]

as it should be. you are welcome, good work deserves praise.