Saturday, August 14, 2010

Pipe Dreams















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser


The Great Serpent Pipe
has been speaking to me,

smoldering plumes of
Straight Truth into
The Great Mystery.

I’m being watched.

Watched by a being that I
can do no more than
cradle in my heart.

“Know me!” exclaims
the fanged pipe.

And I look closely with
the fullness of my vision
finding an entire Cosmos
in the shaman-carved remnants
of The Tree branch.

Lay open the bowl-womb,
the Hearth of Creation,
where the tinder is placed
prayer by prayer.

Where the fire in the belly
truly ignites.

Welcome the stem,
with firm intent to join.
Here is the passage way
through which the Sacred Breath
enters,

But only when fueled by
the most devout of lips.

There can be no manifestation
without their union.

My hand runs the length of
the knife-notched scales,
dwelling on the near-tangibleness
of presence.

I am no stranger to the
seen and unseen,
to the felt and unseen.

I know your smell in my
nostrils as a familiar.

My hesitation, my love, has long
been traveling sunwise -

With a gripping cowardice I
deeply implore:

“Am I worthy to carry you?”

The conversation, my love,
has had but a question,
until this dawn -

A sun birth at which the Great Serpent Pipe
heard from the Great Mystery,

“Know me!

None who marries
the anciently-endowed elements
in my name
is unworthy.”


© 2010-2014/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out" (www.hiraethpress.com)

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