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Not Averse
There are pagan echoes.
The supple green branches,
Remembering half-forgotten lives,
Are obscured by Middle-Eastern tales.
The supple green branches,
Seeming deathless,
Are obscured by Middle-Eastern tales
Of a boy-king.
Seeming deathless,
The year is born again. The festival
Of a boy-king
Is but one of many.
The year is born again. The festival
Seeking the return of the light
Is but one of many.
All humans feel the change.
Seeking the return of the light,
Great stone shrines were built.
All humans feel the change
And, if we look, we can still see.
Great stone shrines were built
Many lifetimes before us
And, if we look, we can still see
There are pagan echoes.