Chronicles of a Modern Pict

Oh Gentle Pan

Wrapped in His arms,
A loving embrace,
I'm safe and content.
To others who do not know Him,
His form may frighten.
But to me, He is beautiful,
And perfect
From the points of His horns,
To the base of His hooves.
His temper,
As violent and tempestuous
As His soul
Is warm and kind.
The music He makes,
As He dances and plays,
Fills my heart
And opens my mind,
To His passion and pain.
My God made flesh,
Frolics in the forest,
Among the trees and leaves,
Loving and celebrating life
And all life brings.
I long to dance with Him
Among the trees and leaves.
To kiss His sweet cheek,
To have Him smile at me
And touch my face.
The love and care in His eyes
Telling me he loves me,
And accept me as I am.
My lord of the wood
Is always with me.
In my soul, my heart, my mind.
As long as He is with me,
I will never be alone,
Or afraid.
Pan, Oh gentle Pan.

 

 

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