Oh, cloven-foot god who was known to chase
Nymphs and maidens all over the place,
But rarely could catch
A squeeze or a snatch
Repulsed as they were by your form and face.

What a rotten hand you were then dealt:
Scapegoatting you as the Devil himself!
With your hooves and horns
And irreverent scorn,
The beasty boy was put on the shelf.

All praise to the Great God Pan!
It's time to lift the ban
Let loose the Great God Pan!

May notes from your reed pipes resound
Over peaks, through valleys, in the town
Setting toes tapping
And lovers madcapping
Turning soap opera victims upside down.

Making love can restore and renew
It can even happen to you!
Goddess of Beauty accepts -
Her man supports and protects -
Amid blossoms bending over with dew.

All praise to the Great God Pan!
No more "Wham-bam-thank-you, Ma'am!"
Loving ecstasy for the shaggy God Pan!

Tempt us away from our worldly pursuits
With the succulence of forbidden fruits
We escape the abyss
Indulging our bliss
And the lure of our own, inner truth.

All praise to the Great God Pan!
Wildwood spirit is rising again
In jubilant women and men
Cavorting with the Great God Pan!

James: For more reasons than one, this is really one of my favorites. It was another step forward in technique and it has statuesque qualities. Everyone is lookin' good! The scene has a kind of nobility in bestowing love where it has always been denied. Like so many others in our book, Pan is brought forward to contemporary times where tantra knows no bounds. Venus is feeling luscious and loved here. Her willingness to share herself with the great god Pan reflects with total honesty her true beauty and pure attitude about loving freely.
......Of course the fact that this scenario will no doubt stir the emotions of sanctimonious monogamists does not escape me. Perhaps this is a new take on the old myth where, because Pan rarely "got any" - his howling at night instilled panic in the hearts of men. Caught as he is here in a moment of ecstasy, Pan holds in his hand the syrinx, the panpipes for which he is famous. Championing artistic license, I thought adding the innocents (the blue flowers) was a perfect touch.

Becca: To elicit the revelry of the Bacchanalia, I wrote this poem in a style reminiscent of the limerick (rhyming aabba), with several bawdy double-entendres ("snatch", "beasty boy", "bending over"). Pan, the ultimate party animal and dirty old man, was so repulsive to early Christians that the Church modeled their Satan after him (goat hooves, horns, and lusty behavior). "Pan's Dawn" looks beyond the traditional imagery, however, and allows Pan to express his sexuality in a tantric way. Venus, in her role as initiatress, supported by Mars, shows Pan a "new dawn" through conscious love-making. Pan will no longer have to accost and ravish unsuspecting women. He does not have to worry about being rejected because of his looks. In the new myth, we all can embrace Pan's celebration of his sexuality as our own.

......Pan is the Lord of Nature, the Horned One, the God of the Wildwood. Half man, half goat, his very sight inspires reverence, and sometimes alarm. In The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame, Mole, with his friend Rat, following the beguiling sound of pan pipes, come upon him: ". . . Then, in the utter clearness of the imminent dawn, while Nature, flushed with fulness of incredible colour, seemed to hold her breath for the event, he looked in the very eyes of the Friend and Helper; saw the backward sweep of the curved horns, gleaming in the growing daylight; saw the stern, hooked nose between the kindly eyes that were looking down on them humourously, while the bearded mouth broke into a half-smile at the corners; saw the rippling muscles on the arm that lay across the broad chest, the long supple hand still holding the pan-pipes only just fallen away from the parted lips; saw the splendid curves of the shaggy limbs disposed in majestic ease on the sward . . . All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered.
.......'Rat!' he found breath to whisper, shaking, 'Are you afraid?'
.......'Afraid?' murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love. 'Afraid? Of Him? O, never, never! And yet - and yet - O, Mole, I am afraid!"
.......Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship."

......Pan is born in Arcadia (a mountainous, rustic area in the Peloponnesus of Greece) of Hermes (Mercury) and the Nymph of Dryops. Upon seeing her newborn - with horned head, wispy beard, and goat hoofs - the mother flees in horror. So Hermes wraps his son in a rabbit skin, carries him up to Olympus, and calls an audience of the gods.
......."A goat child!" Zeus exclaims.
......."How cute!" cry the goddesses who swarm around him.
Because "all" are delighted with Hermes' son, they call him "Pan". But none are so charmed by him as Dionysus (Bacchus). In fact, Pan later becomes a frequent reveler in the bacchanalia.

.......A denizen of the forests and thickets, Pan protects those that live off the land. Shepherds, hunters, farmers, and fisherfolk make offerings (honey, milk, lambs, fish) to him at his mountain shrines. There they also receive healing, and sometimes advice. For Pan brings his worshippers into contact with the untamed forces from the dark corners of the subconscious. His oracles deliver prophecy and interpret dreams.

.......A prayer by Plato:

......"Beloved Pan, and all ye other gods who haunt this place, give me beauty in the inward soul; and may the outward and inward man be at one."................................[Dialogues, Phaedrus, sec.279]

......In spite of the fact that his rites celebrate sex, fertility, and music, Pan himself is forlorn in love. Continually aroused by his lusty nature, Pan pursues goddesses, nymphs, and mortals alike. His quarry, however, recoil from the overbearing god. As he loves pine trees, he naturally falls in love with Pitys, the pine nymph. But she will have nothing to do with the goatman, and when he chases her, she turns herself into a fir tree. Pulling off one of her branches, he winds it into a wreath. "In honor of you, dear Pitys," he says, crowning himself with the pine bough.
......In pursuit of Echo, he grabs after the nymph, who, at the edge of a cliff, disintegrates rather than yield to him. All that remains of her is her voice. Pan also falls in love with Syrinx, one of the Hamadryads (tree nymphs). After his roughshod attempts to woo her fail, he tries to seize her. Syrinx bounds away. Soon, however, it is clear that the goatfoot god is gaining on her. In desperation, Syrinx invokes the Earth spirits to save her. At that moment she stumbles at river's edge, disappearing from view. Pan, who nearly has her in his grasp, comes up with a handful of reeds. Sitting dejectedly upon a rock on the riverbank, he fondles the reeds.

......"Oh, my beloved Syrinx . . ." cries Pan. Then, binding the reeds of differing lengths together, he fashions a musical instrument. "My beloved Syrinx," he sighs, and puts the reeds to his lips to play a haunting melody. Thus he invents the syrinx, or pan pipes. Ever after, shepherds make mournful yet soothing music on the syrinx, especially in the heat of the day, to console the god Pan during his midday sleep. Woe be to the poor soul that might awaken the satyr god sleeping in his grotto, for his first response is a terrifying yell.

......It is whispered that, on May Eve, Pan, disguised in the white fleece of a ram, finally gets lucky and makes love to Selene, Goddess of the Moon. Together they share the mysteries of the dark.

......Pan knows the dark. Always able to party through the night, he also spends many nights alone. His ghastly shrieks of loneliness set even the bravest heroes to make a frantic escape. Aware of this, people enter the depths of the forest with trepidation.

......No one knows how, but one day Pan disappears. The news spreads throughout the ancient world. As a ship, on its way from Greece to Italy, passes by the island of Paxos, the Egyptian pilot hears his name called, "Thamuz!" Frightened, the sailor does not answer. Suddenly the winds die; the ship is becalmed. "Thamuz!" the voice cracks through the silence. Fearing his reticence might only make things worse, he answers. The voice then booms, "Carry the message wherever you go: the Great God Pan is dead!"

......Once the winds blow his ship to Italy, Thamuz relays the message, which is greeted by widespread weeping and wailing. For though the King of the Arcadian Satyrs inspired fear, even moreso he inspired love.

......The above tale of his death seems to be related to the yearly mourning for the death of Tammuz, or Dumuzi, which was widely practiced from Mesopotamia to the Mediterranean, and was certainly full of wholehearted lamentations and grief. Pan probably represented the pagan Horned God who coupled with the Earth Goddess in May Day fertility rites. As the personification of Nature and instinct, he became the enemy of the Christian Church's campaign to control the natural urges of its members. Thus, he was portrayed as the Devil. His companions, the nature-loving satyrs and nymphs, became demons and witches. In the 19th century, however, Romantic poets found an answer to their longing for a return to Nature in the character of Pan. The Brownings (Elizabeth Barrett and Robert), Keats, Emerson, and Shelley all honored him in their poetry. Idyllic scenes of Arcadia captured the popular imagination. Today, Pan is one of the gods often honored in modern pagan ritual.

......Our language has been enriched by Pan. In addition to his name and syrinx, we also have the following words: panic (which his shriek could invoke), caprice and caper (from the Latin word for goat), and tragedy (from the Greek word for goat song).

......." . . . The myth
.......Explain who may! Let all else go, I keep
........- As of a ruin just a monolith -
.......Thus much, one verse of five words, each a boon:
.......Arcadia, night, a cloud, Pan, and the moon."

...........................from "Pan and Luna"
.................................by Robert Browning