Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
The Other Side of Night
What did they think, those old pagans, as they saw the Old Ways that they loved falling to the ground around them?
What did they feel?
Did they hate? Did they hope? Did they despair?
They fought, we know that they did. They hid. They dissembled.
They draped the Old in the cloak of the New.
They laid their love carefully away, bidding Earth hold it close, until a new day should come.
Did they, looking into darkness, hope for another dawn?
Did they, with eyes of hope, see to the other side of night?
Did they see us?
We ourselves are the hoped-for of those old pagans.
We are their Children of Promise.
Gods of our people, their gods and ours, may we be worthy of that hope.
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Dear Stephen,
Your meditation is beautiful, and I am reminded that this is precisely what Indigenous peoples of the Americas have done, and continue to do, to protect their cultures: some nations built churches on their lands and practice(d) their ancient traditions inside them away from the eyes of the settlers...and a myriad other ways to survive colonization. I appreciate your call for us all to "keep the faith" by doing good, for all, no matter what we are currently facing. Thanks, Dr. Mays of the Indigenous Women blog.