Paganus

Paganus



Far beyond horizons marked by dreams.

I glimpsed the life of an ancient man.

A life of beauty cut apart in screams

He lived in the waning days of bygone lands.



Farming was this mans way of life.

And on the land he would daily toil.

Absorbing all the necessary strife.

Of a man who depends upon the soil.



Forgetting not the sustenance he reaped

To Aesir he would send his daily prayer.

And as the chill of winter slowly creped.

He knew his mortal life would still be spared.



The solstice of the sun would bring relief.

For by then the frigid days had ceased.

The pulse nature would strengthen his beliefs.

As life went on in rarely broken peace.



This man could feel the presence of his gods.

In perfect stride within the world of man.

The two of them were never left at odds.

For both worlds walked together hand in hand.



The wind of change however would blow cold.

As changing times brought with them changing ways.

The ancient orders soon began to fold.

Heralding the birth of darker days.



Our man of ancient days indeed would see.

All the terror that would come to pass.

And in so doing he would cease to be.

Onto a burning stake he would be cast.



Awaking in this world so long departed.

Its good to know the strength you find in spirit.

Wishing that the truth could be imparted.

I tell the tale to all who wish to hear it.



Take to heart the ways that were erased.

So that all can share in their special gift.

Everyday these ways should be embraced.

So that my tale would truly help uplift.

 

You DO realise you named your poem pagANUS?

 

paganus is the Latin root of the modern word "pagan" it meant village dweler or somebody who stuck to the old Pre-Christan religions.

 

I don't speak Latin.

 

i like it

 

This was excellent, I liked the rhythm of it, like reading a sonnet.

 

I've just been reading all of the posted poems, and this is one of my favourites so far. Very nicely done. Keep up the good work. Peace!

 

Beautiful. One half of my heritage is native South American and the other is from a very tiny and spiritual clan from Scotland (son of the dark faerie is the name of the clan in the old tongue) so this poem resonated with me and their ways that still flow through me and many others...
Thank you

 

You have a lovely sense of rhythm and rhyme.