Post by Loriel on Jul 17, 2005 21:46:44 GMT -5
I know it's about Wicca, but I don't know where to put it. So here it be and I give the credits. Don't kill me Azuriel, I'm just a tad ignorant.
I'm not of the Intellectual Elite
A friend was once shouted down in a room, and the voice that brought about his doom
did say of him he had book learning much but of spirituality no learning such.
This friend, the rude shouter did hyperventilate, in knowing the subject his opinion invalidate.
For knowing his sources, his books and his cues, was apparently off of her list of whose whos.
Quoth the cranky:you snob, you rank, you effete! We'll take no opinions of the intellectual elite!
I wondered, though silent, at the damage here done.... no one raised a voice, no, not a one...
Then a girl in the back, her voice quite weak, stood up although she was obviously meek.
"What nonsense! What horror to hear what you holler! should we him ignore because he's a scholar?"
The meeting, tragically, I must say, got nothing more accomplished that day.
We were, I'm afraid, left from her to hear, how scholarship, tragically must be pushed to the rear.
"do what feels right!" "Do what I say!" said the girl who spoke for many that day.
"there is no one right path!" she claimed as well, stating the obvious, from what I could tell.
Our ears, I'm afraid to say, were then treated
to how her personal experiences were what to be heeded.
I admired the scholar, I admired his stand, I even walked up and I shook his hand.
she then turned on me, the little minx, and said I was part of something that stinks.
Wicca, she claimed, had no room for books, for words of the wise or all knowing looks.
I got mad, I got mad, thought I had been had, left Wicca forever, and damn was I glad...
but out of the room, I heard a small noise, like a choir of virginal austrian boys.
I listened and reached, as the news it teached....
Yes, the words did me haunt....
They sang "You can't always get what you want."
I went back in the room, not nice, I'm afraid...
I said "I didn't join Wicca to get laid!"
"I joined to hear the voice of the divine, not get blasted on vegan cakes and wine."
"I joined, I researched because the opinions were mine, I agreed with the theos, and with the divine."
"You're the problem!" I screamed, and I ranted and shoved. "You've the one killing the religion I loved!"
"You've turned a faith with meaning and beauty-
into something dark and out for profit and booty!"
She stopped and the music got louder inside-
She stopped and she turned to run and hide.
"The truth will come out as it always does in the end-
This "do whatever you want" is not Wicca, friend!"
"Sometimes when your faith has changed you move on, quit lagging-
but into your new faith stop Wiccans dragging!"
"We honor our scholars, that intellectual elite, those who use the mind, instead of the meat..."
The girl was still silent, tears on her cheecks gleaming-
As if in a movie, I saw though her seeming...
Her shallowness, evil, and holier-than-you dance
was just how she hid her own damned ignorance.
She sniffed and she cried and she begged us for pity-
Her language, I must say, was not very pretty.
She started to saddle up to us as if friends
my inner music changed to "won't be fooled again."
And there on the podium, suit pressed and clean, the wisdom of the scholar suddenly gleamed.
We asked him what it was we should do and he told us how others had fought like this, too."
He told us of Romans, and Greeks and of Celts-he talked about what they did, not how he felt.
Through his lessons we saw a new way to go, a Wicca of the heart, not followed for show.
Yes, indeed, we discovered, and rose to our feet, yes indeed he was part of an "elite."
But he didn't abuse it or hurt us or lie, in fact, it was the one who stood against him who were sly...
He just wanted us not the same mistakes to make
As those who did our same paths take.
He didn't abuse this wonderous knowledge he learned in school, he learned in college.
As we left and I saw him creep into the wood,
I saw his intelligence truely was good.
For this one whom our ex-priestess had treated as least had, yes, antlers, like those of a beast.
He saw me and winked and waved out one hand, then alone in a glade I was left to stand.
The lesson, most powerful that I was taught, was that without our gods, humans are naught.
For it is they who have given us most precious jewels-
they have given us our greatest tools.
And research is one, learning another, by which we know them, and know each other.
by ~Iota of www.rantingwitches.com/
I'm not of the Intellectual Elite
A friend was once shouted down in a room, and the voice that brought about his doom
did say of him he had book learning much but of spirituality no learning such.
This friend, the rude shouter did hyperventilate, in knowing the subject his opinion invalidate.
For knowing his sources, his books and his cues, was apparently off of her list of whose whos.
Quoth the cranky:you snob, you rank, you effete! We'll take no opinions of the intellectual elite!
I wondered, though silent, at the damage here done.... no one raised a voice, no, not a one...
Then a girl in the back, her voice quite weak, stood up although she was obviously meek.
"What nonsense! What horror to hear what you holler! should we him ignore because he's a scholar?"
The meeting, tragically, I must say, got nothing more accomplished that day.
We were, I'm afraid, left from her to hear, how scholarship, tragically must be pushed to the rear.
"do what feels right!" "Do what I say!" said the girl who spoke for many that day.
"there is no one right path!" she claimed as well, stating the obvious, from what I could tell.
Our ears, I'm afraid to say, were then treated
to how her personal experiences were what to be heeded.
I admired the scholar, I admired his stand, I even walked up and I shook his hand.
she then turned on me, the little minx, and said I was part of something that stinks.
Wicca, she claimed, had no room for books, for words of the wise or all knowing looks.
I got mad, I got mad, thought I had been had, left Wicca forever, and damn was I glad...
but out of the room, I heard a small noise, like a choir of virginal austrian boys.
I listened and reached, as the news it teached....
Yes, the words did me haunt....
They sang "You can't always get what you want."
I went back in the room, not nice, I'm afraid...
I said "I didn't join Wicca to get laid!"
"I joined to hear the voice of the divine, not get blasted on vegan cakes and wine."
"I joined, I researched because the opinions were mine, I agreed with the theos, and with the divine."
"You're the problem!" I screamed, and I ranted and shoved. "You've the one killing the religion I loved!"
"You've turned a faith with meaning and beauty-
into something dark and out for profit and booty!"
She stopped and the music got louder inside-
She stopped and she turned to run and hide.
"The truth will come out as it always does in the end-
This "do whatever you want" is not Wicca, friend!"
"Sometimes when your faith has changed you move on, quit lagging-
but into your new faith stop Wiccans dragging!"
"We honor our scholars, that intellectual elite, those who use the mind, instead of the meat..."
The girl was still silent, tears on her cheecks gleaming-
As if in a movie, I saw though her seeming...
Her shallowness, evil, and holier-than-you dance
was just how she hid her own damned ignorance.
She sniffed and she cried and she begged us for pity-
Her language, I must say, was not very pretty.
She started to saddle up to us as if friends
my inner music changed to "won't be fooled again."
And there on the podium, suit pressed and clean, the wisdom of the scholar suddenly gleamed.
We asked him what it was we should do and he told us how others had fought like this, too."
He told us of Romans, and Greeks and of Celts-he talked about what they did, not how he felt.
Through his lessons we saw a new way to go, a Wicca of the heart, not followed for show.
Yes, indeed, we discovered, and rose to our feet, yes indeed he was part of an "elite."
But he didn't abuse it or hurt us or lie, in fact, it was the one who stood against him who were sly...
He just wanted us not the same mistakes to make
As those who did our same paths take.
He didn't abuse this wonderous knowledge he learned in school, he learned in college.
As we left and I saw him creep into the wood,
I saw his intelligence truely was good.
For this one whom our ex-priestess had treated as least had, yes, antlers, like those of a beast.
He saw me and winked and waved out one hand, then alone in a glade I was left to stand.
The lesson, most powerful that I was taught, was that without our gods, humans are naught.
For it is they who have given us most precious jewels-
they have given us our greatest tools.
And research is one, learning another, by which we know them, and know each other.
by ~Iota of www.rantingwitches.com/
