Finding the Pagan Way

Finding the Pagan Way

For many of our readers, I will be speaking to the converted, when I say that Paganism is a very wide term. It covers very many groups and belief systems, but for me personally, it was like stepping into the light. All I had read and analysed over the previous 45 years came to life when I moved to Lincolnshire, in the United Kingdom, and met my present wife, Tina. It was around then that I became much more involved in the pagan movement.
This poem I wrote, describes the impact that discovering paganism as a lifestyle,- rather than a case for study, had on me.

 

Don’t search,- Look.

So many many hours I spent in dusty rooms with dusty books,
I never touched the Earth,
My mind could reach the furthest edges of the universe,
yet never saw the sky.
Oh! What a fool was I, that I should never feel the earth ,
or gaze in awe upon the evening sky.
I search the ancient wisdom of the dead,
And never stopped to listen to the beating of my heart,
Or what it said.

My spirit withered like the crumbling parchments over which I peered and pondered ,
Like some dried up husk ,- My childhood lost , my youthful joy was choked by gloomy shadows of the past.
What kind of wisdom chills the bones and turns your feet to clay,
What kind of truth can suck the laughter and innocence of youth away,
and leave just tired old bones and sagging flesh that stink of misery and
pity and decay,
A fool was I , my weary eyes despised the cheerful light of day,
and wallowed in that dusty darkened world of candlelight,
And never saw how far away from life that my poor soul had strayed.

And then one day I stared into a pair of eyes of violet blue,
and little did I realise that Life would never be the same again,
How could I tell the strange, amazing things that they would do,
They burned into my very soul and tore my dust-filled world in two.
In a single moment I had died and was reborn,
My childlike eyes looked up in wonder at the morning sky,
The long, long night had fled, and brought a new and wondrous dawn.
The vibrant colours of the world revived my my soul that blessed morn.
I listened to the joyful songs of birds at early morn.
The wisdom I had sought, was there before me all along.
It whispered in the trees, I felt it, written on the veins of Autumn leaves,
I saw it in the flight of birds and heard it in their joyful songs.
I smelt in on the leaf-strewn forest floor,
I knew my search was over and that I need seek no more,
I felt within my very blood and bones,- the secret I had sought for ‘oh’ so long.
At last, my dreary world of darkness faded, and was dead and gone.

I wandered barefoot on the glistening dew-capped morning grass, my mind was dazed ,my heart was full of joy.
The Earth flowed through my naked feet, She rose and touched the sky,
She brought me to the wisdom I had sought since I was young,
I knelt upon that sacred place and thanked the gods for what my love had done,
For Fortune smiled upon me when I listened to the words my love had said..
She said, ”Don’t search,- just Look , my love”,
and on the day I looked , my search was done.

Patrick Kavanagh
13/08/12

 

 

I grew up in Dublin, Ireland,- with many things happening around me that people would call “occult”. I lived in a house that was reputed to be haunted by a previous tenant, and my mum read the future in tea-leaves and playing cards. I saw faeries in the fire and flitted around silently and almost invisibly, hearing conversations that were much too adult for my early years. I would sit quietly for hours, lost in my own little world and totally unnoticed.
I grew up in a strange world of superstition, violence and ignorance. I was never at home in the world in which I found myself. It was as if those around me were a different species,- crude, cruel and dangerous. The neighbourhood in which I lived seemed like a battle ground. My one true love, and my only comfort were books. I was an avid reader and I took the perilous trip to the next borough every few days with my dad’s library tickets. I was about seven and had out-read the children;s section, so I told them I was collecting the books for my dad.
A devout Catholic,- I was drawn to the priesthood, and had my first interview at the age of twelve.
My dad died that year and I began to question everything I had thought I believed in. It began a spiritual journey that was to last me my whole life……

 
Remember Lord

Remember Lord ,When I was young, and felt your hand hold mine,
Remember when I woke in fear at night,
And you were there to take away my fright,
Remember Lord.

Remember when I knelt to say my nightly prayers, you’re angels gathered round my bed,
I used to feel the beating of their wings,
And heard them sing of many joyous things,
Remember lord.

Remember how I never feared to leave this Vale of Tears, though little time had passed since I’d been born,
This world, at that young age, held little joy for me
As if I knew, right from the start, that I had been reborn,
Remember Lord.

Remember Lord, my single wish,- to stand before Your Throne and sing your praise,
To be amongst the your vast Angelic Choir,
Along with them, my voice ,in joyful song, to raise,
Remember lord.

Remember how I knelt before your priests,- If indeed your priests they were , in shame,
I’d tell them all my petty crimes,- my sins washed clean,
And wish to be with you before I sinned again,
Remember lord.

Remember how I walked away, my anger stronger than my fear of your impending Wrath,
I could no longer see your Love in this cruel world,
I couldn’t bear the loss of those I loved,
Remember Lord.
Remember Lord , how lost and hurt I felt, How hard I tried to make it on my own,
I tried my best to do things right, without Your Light,
But things just kind of seemed to work out wrong,
Remember lord.

Remember Lord,Though many years have passed since my first childish Prayers,
And I have lost and found my way through many paths throughout the lonely years,
I cannot turn the years round and live in child-like faith,
But I remember You,
Remember Me.

Patrick Kavanagh
June 2012