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.”

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out" 

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