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The Role Of The God

1994 C.M. Joserlin, "Raven"

The men were gathered ‘round the fire, to speak of what should be.
Up stood and quoth the great MacFinn, a mighty warrior he:

> the whole point is to get away from feminine influences and reassert
> the God aspect of life. Hunter, warrior and Lord of the forest...Herne is his true state.

They nodded, but reluctant, for life womanless is hard;
Then came these words from Raven, the free-roving Gypsy bard:

"What, run away from women, you call THAT a warrior’s creed?
To FLEE the field of battle of the sexes is our need?

I think NOT, my feisty fighter; I’m afraid I fail your test,
For joining in that battle is the game I love the best.

The hunt is on, the game’s afoot, a lovely lass is she;
And ere the night is done, the battle will a victor see.

ONE victor, did I say? Oh, no! At least there will be TWO:
For both are won, and both will win, when man and woman woo.

If, as the saying has it, bare (if brotherless) is back,
So Lordship’s cold and empty, if a Lord doth Lady lack.

So -- ‘Hunter, warrior, Lord’ -- agreed, these attributes are good;
But add one other -- ‘Lover’ -- if the God be understood.

For I feel my strongest Manhood, and am closest to the God,
When, at my lady’s touch, my own cold emptiness is thawed;

And then my trusting heart with Godlike energy is filled,
For Perfect Love and Trust are what the God and Goddess willed.

But... ‘Herne’s his TRUE STATE’ -- is that really what I heard you say?
My brother, are you trying now to preach of ‘One True Way’?

Oh come now, jesting’s over, sober up and let’s be real.
Is there no other aspect of the God that you can feel?

The Lover of the Lady -- sometimes Pluto, sometimes Pan;
The Son beloved of the Mother (true of every man);

The wounded and the dying God, the sacrificial King;
The risen and returning God, reborn with every Spring;

Are not these other aspects just as real, and just as ‘True’,
As Herne the Hunter? Don’t they call as loud and strong to you?

My brother, sit and think awhile, and see what thoughts are born.
Good night, my lady’s waiting -- so I’ll see you in the morn!"

He walked from firelight, into shadow, singing out a song;
They heard him in the distance, later, laughing loud and long.