A Moment of Poetry
Caste System
I will wear the marks of my Gods proudly.
Let there be no mistaking where my allegiances lie.
My skin will proclaim it.
My clothes will tell you.
I will not be emptied of Them.
I will not forsake Their mysteries.
There is nothing you could offer me,
that would cause me to swallow lies.
Nothing you possess that would ever
tear me from Their service.
I bring Them wherever I walk.
My very flesh is a doorway
through which They may reach.
Make no mistake:
Offerings provide fertile ground
for devotion to flourish.
Remember this, when you ask me to trade
the emptiness of the secular modern
for the glory of Their revelation.
Some of us have not forgotten
The faces of our ancestors
The whisper of our Gods
The honor of Their cultus
and our duty to those yet to come.
What weight is a bit of flesh
for such a promise?
Like our Gods, we remember.
Posted on March 21, 2018, in Poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.
This has a casual beauty to it and comes across as poetic advice (for whom depends on the reader). The title is rather interesting as well. Thank you for sharing.
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Excellent
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Boldly spoken! I join your passionate sentiments. Why would we, who give our very being to those Deities who have called us to respond to them, be ashamed to show where our allegiance lie?
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Beautiful and so true.
“Vere magnum habere fragilitatem hominis, securitatem Dei.” “It is true greatness to have in one the frailty of humanity and the security of a God.” Seneca
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