@robingoodfellow Your sentiments remind me of Hermann Hesse's poem, Worship:
In the beginning was the rule of sacred kings Who hallowed field, grain, plow, who handed down The law of sacrifices, set the bounds To mortal men forever hungering For the Invisible Ones' just ordinance That holds the sun and moon in perfect balance And whose forms in their eternal radiance Feel no suffering, nor know death's ambience.
Long ago the sons of the gods, the sacred line, Passed, and mankind remained alone, Embroiled in pleasure and pain, cut off from being, Condemned to change unhallowed, unconfined.
But intimations of the true life never died, And it is for us, in this time of harm, To keep, in metaphor and symbol and in psalm, Reminders of that sacred reverence.
Perhaps some day the darkness will be banned, Perhaps some day the times will turn about, The sun will once more rule us as our god, And take the sacrifices from our hand.
