A wisdom-keeper asked me
to explain the Pagan Hall
As I ask you the same.
I stood before an open sky
As she began to rain.
WERE I A KING
Were I a King
What would to Want?
What would I to Do?
What would I Bring?
What would I Sing?
I will not be held to answer to any other
I will sit in front of a fire, which I alone tend
or which those loyal to me tend.
It will be my fire of change, of life, of warmth.
I will stockpile endless supply of firewood from maintained forestry.
I will sit before a spring of purest water.
Those will come who seek fire and water,
sharing food cooked of my hearth.
We will sit in council to discuss matters,
with critical and emotional thinking alike,
by advice of relevant stories inherited from our ancestors,
by stories from our own experience,
told by the fashion of the stories of our ancestors.
The hearth to be such place where stories shared,
as food enjoyed, as good company.
There to be open vistas of broad, beautiful landscape
yet protection from elements, cold, wet, grime.
It is not because I am a King I deserve such things.
It is because I have attained such things I am become a King.
I shrugged away the entanglements of others
To sit in contemplation,
to tend my hearth,
to nurture my being with pure waters and timeless simplicities.
Were I King I would say to every one who can;
Do this thing.
For most times you may find yourself alone.
That silence is your Throne.
For some times you may find yourself with love.
That blanket is your Home.
After I have passed there will be ashes,
Some memories of stories shared to be retold
Flowing of a pure spring, singing.
There will remain the landscape,
unwatched now but for other Kings.
To protect this Right
I must fight.
That is what it is to be King.
By this Ring
I ask of thee
Explain the Pagan Hall.
I ask the One
She who is my spring
She who is my fire
Sing your Truth’s desire.
Were you to be Queen
How dare you to Dream?