Pan Lives!

In the stony peaks and valleys
Of this great metropolis
In the dark and frightful alleys
A nymph still hopes for bliss

I can hear her passionate cry
Repeating my desire
My distant heart does not come nigh
To her pain and fire

In the city's looking-glass
That reflects my dim repose
I wonder if it's me I pass
What does my heart expose?

Have I run from opportunity
Like Narcissus alone?
Missing the community
Where my spirit I might hone?

Great Pan, we've heard, is cold and dead
What vigor have we lost?
Without him we have slowly bled
From our senses tossed

But do not let the cold and dark
Freeze your human blood
Into the sacred realms embark
Trudge through the forest mud

Pan LIVES, and he is everywhere
I hear his sacred reed!
In concert halls and open air
He shares his lover’s creed

The fairies, satyr, and the faun
New music, praise, and verse
Have awakened a new dawn
To remove the modern curse

Of self-asphyxiation
With arrogance and pride
Let’s worship Earth, not nation
And carry Pan inside!

Free Echo from her prison
Release her gift of speech
Independence has arisen
And Bacchus is in reach!

Let Arcadia live again
And shine through concrete walls
Cultivate the green within
And hear Gaia's calls.

***

Theo J. van Joolen©2010

***

Pan by Gary A. Lippincott