Pantheism Poem by Francie Lynch

I saw a satyr in the woods,
A centaur in the meadow;
Travelling on, I remarked on a fawn
Hallowing out reeds for a pipe.
The world around me was green,
The water ran clear, cold and fresh,
The air I breathed was historic.
Crosses were not yet invented,
No Mecca to visit,
No Temple to rebuild.
I am a beach bum, a sun-worshipper, a tree hugger.
I will worship the dove, not the sacrifice.
I will homage the god of the kingdom that is here
Before she is impaled this season.