Pan Poem by Ina D. Coolbrith

There’s Pan!
See-through the branches yonder!
Where has he been, I wonder,
The long, long span?
Now, listen: you will hear,
The pipes-the pipes o’ Pan

Why, only yesterday
I saw a Graybeard, there;
A Graybeard, bent and old,
Under the boughs a-cold
And bleak and bare.
Now, what does that mad boy hold,
And wisely scan?
Then, lifting high in the air,
With a leap and a glad hurray,
And a laugh like the song of May,
Toss-far away?
Why ‘tis the Graybeard’s mask!
‘What does it mean? ’ you ask.

Why-Pan!
Just Pan!
Pan, since the world began:
Joy supernal, -
Youth eternal-
PAN!