Wild and free

In ancient woods where shadows play, And nymphs and satyrs dance and sway, A god of wild, untamed delight, Emerges with the fall of night. Pan, the wild one, half-beast, half-man, With cloven hooves through forests ran, His laughter echoed through the glen, A guardian of beasts and of men. His pipes would sing a haunting tune, Beneath the silver, waxing moon, He’d play for Dryads, fair and free, A symphony of mystery. The shepherds feared his sudden call, A shriek that made the bravest fall, Yet, in his eyes, a gentle light, That softened fears with pure delight. He chased the nymphs through meadows green, His heart a mix of joy and keen, For Pan knew love and lustful woe, In nature’s every and glow. Echo’s voice still haunts the vale, Her love for him a tragic tale, In groves where wildflowers bloom, Her whispers linger in the gloom. Pan, the wild, eternal sprite, In every shadow, every light, A myth, a god, a fleeting glance, In every song, in every dance. As you wander through the trees, And feel the stirring of the breeze, Remember Pan, and let him be, The spirit that's wild, forever free.