.
Tell me stories
of your tail,
long enough to wrap around the Sun.
All powerful,
devouring mother,
father of the Universe,
deceiver of worlds.
Trace back each of your colors.
Smashed open wide,
eyes capturing a broken spectrum.
Your need to feed,
to take in,
to turn matter into energy,
fire into light.
The burning heart of chaos.
Fed fat,
until even your children
become bloated.
Wild eyed calves to the slaughter.
Sacrifice.
Only more meat for your table.
Eventually your coils
wrap tight enough around the Earth
that the stars are consumed
in your colors,
and the sky turns black
with the smoke of sacrificial fires.
Only then,
do you notice one
who comes not to eat,
but to be devoured.
And you,
quickly in your hunger
imbibe that thing
that cannot be destroyed,
cannot be transformed.
In a moment,
that is every moment,
in every universe,
you are undone.
Reconciled.
Restored.
The many broken colors
of your scales,
now gone,
and only pure, white light remains.
The place of all creation.
no more destruction.
No more hunger.
Heaven and Earth
unified in harmony.
The last feast
of the serpent.
.
.
DJR – 2023
