I see so many definitions of what Druidry is or is not.
What a Druid is or is not.
How one can become a Druid or not.
Druid's Robes and Chains, who has the right to claim them or does not.
Another person's rights to dress as they wish I will judge not.
With some many knots in this net one should be able to catch this Druid fish.
So in frustration at hauling out of the muddy Public stream.
Only snapping crayfish with not a single Magick Salmon in sight.
I knew that is was time to fish in “The Well of Was” for this answer to who or what I really am.
Tweedledee and Tweedledum knew this great truth without the Rum.
So the White Rabbit I have become, going down the hole of the Second Sun.
Of poor Alice I could find none, yet of my Magick Salmon we are one.
So save your Staves, roll not your Runes and let the Bones rest in the bag.
I can not a twig of your view nor will argue with any cauldron's bubbling Hag.
But of what I found, I shall share and should I by chance have called you Druid.
This is what I have seen, beneath the skin, nails and hair.
I only whisper quietly, as like in the Druid's cave with the sleeping Bear.
Here is what a Druid really is.
“A very very old God or Goddess sleeping and dreaming in your Sheeple's clothes.”
That was child of the Cosmic Dragon from forever, where the cold wind blows.
With her claws we came and cut the Ley,
Set the great Stones along its way.
Hid our Souls in secret Magick egg of yesterday.
Left the Adder to guard our way after losing the War with Fae.
TDK / The Druid King
Copyright George King March 29. 2013
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