Myth and Legend

Our Ancient Heart (Written December 14, 2017)

“The future has an ancient heart,”
And breaths the air of bygone years
It feeds on those tales we have long since forgot,
Still sees what from memory disappears.
The fairytales, the myths and legends,
The folklore we so casually treat.
These are guideposts we still disregard
As history we yet again repeat.
We try to remodel this long standing home
But refuse to see those pillars on which it stands,
Thus we don’t know what we rest upon
And so crumble, like so much sand.
Heed the tales from yonder year,
Harken well what the folklore entreats.
Do not ignore what those myths have to say
For the ancient heart still beats.

___

You know, we act like, in modern times, we have moved past ‘primitive ancient man’… Aside from how ridiculous that very idea of our early forefathers is, we have most certainly much more from those far-off yesteryears than most people seem to ever realize. 

Take our Christmas traditions, for example. Christ, the metaphorical Light of the world, comes in the dark of winter so we celebrate by adorning everything with lights; in the ancient world it was customary to celebrate a festival of lights during the darkest times of winter, as a reminder of the light that would return.  It was once common for many older traditions to be used for their natural merit to help bring people to Christianity. 

And some were just held onto even after they lost their original meaning, and despite not really being given any connection to anything else, because that’s what people had always done.

The holly and the ivy, the wreath on the front door, masked twelth night parties: these are all very old traditions intended to protect man from the evil and mischievous creatures, from the gods of winter and of dark and of death, that roamed the night in the darkest time of year. And we now use them to celebrate the coming of Christ, the Light of the world.

The ancient heart of the world still beats strong, and it is foolish to think we could leave that behind. A story does not survive for thousands of years without a reason. Traditions are not continued for longer than can be tracked just because. These are the bones of the world, and we would do well to know them better before we try to build more.

THANK YOU FOR READING! PLEASE RATE AND REPLY!

Sorry this is so all over the place. It is a worthy topic (and poem title), so I will definitely revisit it with more concentration and organization.

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