Nature becomes ritual a dance to myth
Controlling the turn of pages of religion's pith
Music of metaphor, maestro's baton
Magic in the magicians wand
To temple of Diana, deep are the woods,
A carving in stone of all man's shoulds
Here a fleeing slave having torn a branch from the sacred tree
Defeats the dying god in armed combat's victory
A god's blood sacrifice crops guarantee
A new king anointed at the woods of Nemi
Cut from the belly of a dying sun
Religion born, poetry begun
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Online) - Published: January 11th, 2026 03:21
- Comment from author about the poem: Nemi associated with the temple of Delphi. Here the king of the woods held his position until a challenger could kill him and take his place. Within recorded history he would sleep on his sword in the woods. This was noted by Sir George Frasier in his book The Golden Bough.
- Category: Unclassified
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- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, GenXer Shamrocker ☘️, Sami Mulaj
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Comments10
I'm a big fan of world mythologies so I really appreciate this poem. The imagery is wonderful blending religion, myth, music and poetry...great stuff!
Thank you Dominic for the read and understanding words of support they are deeply valued and appreciated
Myth and ritual braid beautifully here—Frazer’s shadow, blood, crown, and renewal.
That last line seals it: where religion ends, poetry begins.
I thank you deeply Thomas for the read and understanding of this piece. I figured that you would understand. It is most appreciated
I’m struck by how you braid ritual, violence, and renewal without flinching. The idea that belief is born in blood and story feels unsettling and honest. This resonated deeply, dearest Soren. Well done! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you Tristan for your review of this piece. Yes it seems a trail from nature to ritual to myth to religion to poetry
Good write SB.
Thanks so much Orchi I couldn't figure out the timing to make this into a hymn so I had to leave it as a poem
You would need to count the syllables in each line. It may come under 'irregular' metre. In which case, you have to choose a hymn with an 'irregular' tune. Doh! Bit complicated that.
Or - shorten some lines into two lines, to make 'regular' lines. e.g. an 8.6.8.6. or a 10.10.10.10.
Does not have to rhyme, nor always be 4 lines each stanza.
Never was much good at writing those tunes Orchi
Sounds like bingo - 8,10, 6, 4, etc! lol.
What draws me in here is how seamlessly you braid ritual, myth, and language into one motion—almost as if belief itself is being choreographed. Nature isn’t passive in this poem; it performs. It turns pages, conducts metaphors, wields batons and wands.
That opening movement already tells me we’re entering a sacred logic where symbol governs survival.
To me, I think the reference to Nemi and the dying god is handled with a quiet authority. Violence, sacrifice, and renewal are not explained away; they’re accepted as the engine of continuity. I find the image of blood guaranteeing crops especially arresting—it’s unsettling, yet it clarifies how deeply survival and worship are entangled.
Nothing here feels ornamental in the slightest; every mythic act carries consequence.
And that final couplet lands beautifully. “Religion born, poetry begun” feels less like a conclusion and more like a revelation—that verse itself may have emerged from the same need that built temples and demanded sacrifice. This reads like a meditation on origins, written with restraint and gravity, and it lingers well after the last line. Great work and keep on sharing your beautiful work. ~ The Gladden.
Thank you so much for your read and interpretation which is deep and understanding. Sir George Frasier's Book the Golden Bough elucidates on this process where sympathetic magic is the tool bonding nature with ritual and eventually religion where we need a god to die for crops and ourselves to resurrect
You’re very welcome. I’m grateful for the generosity of your clarification as well. The Golden Bough is a fitting lens here—Frazer’s idea of sympathetic magic does feel like the invisible thread running through the poem, binding nature, ritual, and belief into one evolving necessity. The notion that a god must die so crops may live, and that renewal is purchased through sacrifice, gives the verse its mythic gravity. Keep on scribbling, you are good at what you do.
You are most kind and your words are deeply appreciated
Words that awaken in me the atavistic echo of those old Germanic legends !
Thanks so much Lorenz for your read and comment. Sorry to awaken those ancient Germans from their snooze
From their booze !
Never knew of that story in your Comments.
Mythologies are so Interesting. Nice one.
Thank you Kevin for your review and kind words of support. The story is supposedly historical and the point where history touches myth
A most interesting write, and I ponder the myths and religion intertwined. Well done
Thank you NinjaGirl for the read and kind words they are most important to me and most appreciated
Good one soren, may that poetry never end.
Andy
Thank you Andy for your review and kind words of support they are as always most appreciated
A metaphysical poem about the closeness of nature, mythology, religion and poetry...
Thanks again Durdica for the read and comment. Yes there is an evolution of ritual to myth to religion.
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