in the fulness of time story poem

narrative verse in rhyming quatrains

 

In the fullness of Time

 

 

The high priest cleansed the altar stone.

Prepared it for the sacrifice,

 this task was his and his alone.

No lesser person would suffice.

 

The voice of God spoke through his priest

and no man dared to disobey

from the greatest to the least.

The high priest held the power to slay.

 

The sacrifice a comely youth

was not coerced he volunteered.

He had no doubt it was the truth

that for his life all debts be cleared.

 

Then suddenly a blinding light.

White fire consumed the altar stone,

 the high priest fled in mortal fright.

The voice of “God” was but his own.

 

The Goddess made her wishes known.

A demonstration of her power,

 she had destroyed the altar stone.

No longer need her people cower

 

beneath the high priests cruel rule

The could return to the old ways,

he high priest was power mad fool.

Who had perverted ways to praise

 

The Goddess for all that she supplied.

To keep her children clothed and fed

Her laws to everyone applied

from their birth ‘til they were dead.

 

There would be no more sacrifice

of pretty maid or comely youth.

Their honest worship would suffice

The Goddess re -proclaimed the truth.

 

That men should live in amity

obey her laws and they would thrive.

That they had strayed so foolishly.

 The Goddess could and would forgive.

 

Beware of self appointed priests.

They do not, cannot speak for me.

But treat them as you would wild beasts

 which threaten your security.

 

My yoke is not too hard to bear.

Just listen to your inner voice

 and heed the quiet words you hear.

 Be glad my children and rejoice.

 

I watch and ward and will protect

my children who obey my rules

The disobedient can expect

 the punishment reserved for fools.

 

 For they will surely come to grief.

No false priest can usurp my place

 and propagate his false belief.

 I am the guardian of your race.

 

Though fierce invaders seize control.

Forbidding you to worship me.

They will never achieve their goal

believers worship secretly.

 

In sacred groves and forest glades

 as I have always bid them to.

The loyal youths and faithful maids

to my commands will remain true.

 

Religions come ,religions go

as new religions take their place.

But as my true believers know.

 Only the goddess rules by grace.

 

The old religion ever new

although sometimes its underground

or camouflaged but in full view.

In all religions I am found.

 

Still worshipped under different names.

Regarded as a saint sometimes.

Like children’s silly party games

I will endure through trying times.

 

My faithful daughters know its me

but let the priests think otherwise.

Their stiff necked pride won’t let them see.

What’s happening before their eyes.

 

In time I’ll take my rightful place

be worshipped universally.

Return men to a state of grace

 where everyone lives peacefully..

 

15-Apr-08

 

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