Pan

Once there was a silent canvas Sleeping stories unimagined Birth of what if’s, hope and wonder Winds will be named, words will shelter Then, something wicked this way camr Showed a way to the great escape Evoke the worlds, sparked the brain An ape in awe before a door To labyrinth To keystone Earth To fallen stars To there and back We’re the writers Of another way to be We’re the writers Of whatever we cry home A moment alone With unbeknown Reset the world Imagine home A primal need To touch the stars Only way there To enter Imagine music, dance, illusion Tales of dust, of man in the moon The sea lady, snow, glass, apples It is stories that built cathedrals To lose yourself To find who you are Follow your tale, remember your name Enter the woods Tir Na Nog And bring back the good A pale beautiful theatre stage A feast of beautiful tragedy, wonderful fantasy The play is yours to write Yours to live Ready the night by a playwright