Streams and Serpents

 George and I plodded along the road, following it up hill and down, around all of its curves and meanderings. I began to notice something consistent about the road, though. There was a spine of rock that seemed to parallel the road no matter where it went. The spine stuck out of a huge ridge that was almost always higher than the road it paralleled.

“George, what’s that rocky ridge that always seems to be beside the road?” I asked.

“Ouroborus.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ouroborus.”

“Geshundheit. Now do you know what that ridge is or not?”

George sighed. I knew he was rolling his eyes, even though I couldn’t see them. “It’s the Ouroborus, She Wolf. You know, the snake that encircles the world, with its tail in its mouth? The great serpent? We are heading for the House of Serpents, you know, on the Serpentine Road.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay. I’ve heard of that before. Is rocky ridge its spine? It sure looks like one.”

“Nope. They say it’s the spine of the world, though, because it runs above the world snake. The Ourobous is underground, under that long hill we’re following. This is one of the places the Ouroborus isn’t deep underground.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

Yep. I’m glad you noticed it, here, though. You’ll need to meet it shortly.”

Meet it?”

“Yes, meet it. It’s part of your journey to the House of Serpents. Everyone needs to meet the Ouroborus.”

“Oh. Um, George, are you coming with me to meet it?”

“No, I’m not. I don’t need to. I’m George the donkey, not She Wolf the seeker.” George turned off on a small side trail as he spoke. Trotting now, he followed the trail up the ridge that was the back of the Ouroborus and slipped in between two of the spine rocks. They towered above us, ancient pillars of stone, part of the backbone of the world.

We came down into a small grove of trees at the base of the ridge. There was a cave there with a small stream issuing from it. George trundled over to the grove of trees. As soon as we reached it, he said, “Okay, this is it. All off.”

I slid off his back in the shade of the trees and looked around. The little stream babbled over small stones and wound its way through the grove. The cave it came out of wasn’t large, but I could see plenty of room to walk beside the stream. As I started towards it, George stopped me.

I turned around and he was grinning at me. “The stream. Does it look familiar?” he asked.

“No, should it?”

“Well, you’ve seen it before, quite a few mile from here and a lot larger than it is here,” he answered.

I looked at the little brook, babbling happily to itself. The area around it was green and verdant, even as it wandered away from the grove. A suspicion dawned on me. “This isn’t the start of the River of Creativity, is it?”

George nodded and smiled at me as if I were a particularly apt pupil. “One and the same, She Wolf!”

“In that case…” I took off my boots and socks and left them on George’s packs. Then I stepped into the stream. It was cold, but invigorating, not numbing. I splashed up the stream into the cave entrance, where I stopped and turned around. “I’ll be back soon, George. Wait for me here, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be here. Now, just go, would you?”

I smiled at him and turned back to the entrance. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the cool darkness of the cave and waded ahead.

On either side of me, I could see…things. I saw stars appearing and falling, and seasons rushing past like the wind. I could see colors and taste all manner of things in the air - some nice and some not. Smells assaulted my nose and then caressed it. I could hear songs and laughter and sighs, tears and snarls; they were all snatches of sound, little samples of the whole. Winds, rain and heat ran by me in moments, and then a brief flash of pain that was gone before I could really register it. It seemed like everything - anything anyone could imagine - was rushing past me in those minutes I waded up that stream to the headwaters of the River of Creativity and the head of the Ouroborus.

I rounded a bend in the cave into a lit chamber, and there before me was a glittering cascade of water, pouring down from above. A rainbow hung above the little waterfall. A man in flowing robes that seemed to be one color one moment and another the next sat beside the waterfall, his back to the glistening wall of the cave. I realized that it wasn’t the wall of the cave, though, it was the enormous side of the Ouroborus itself. I stood there, staring at it, until the man spoke.

“You are here to see the Ouroborus.” It was a statement, not a question. Without waiting for an reply, he continued, “Step beneath the waterfall, then, and follow the stairs.” He looked back down at a scroll in his lap and ignored me.

I walked up to the small waterfall and stepped under it. The water was every bit as refreshing as it had been when I swam the larger River of Creativity downstream. I paused underneath it and let it soak me thoroughly and then stepped through to the other side. To one side, a narrow set of stairs carved from crystal quartz and glistening with damp spiraled upwards.

I mounted the stairs carefully, afraid I might slip and fall, but the footing seemed secure for all it was wet quartz. The stairs went up and up and up. Finally, I reached a platform at the top and  paused to look around. This was a small chamber carved into a giant quartz crystal on three sides. The fourth side was the side of the Ouroborus itself, shining green like water on a living leaf, blue like the winter sky, red and yellow like flames. I could see his mouth gripping his tail, making him one huge circle. The waters of creativity seemed to be coming from a slit in his side. Then I looked again, and the slit opened to become a huge circle of colors, a rainbow in a circle, with a black spot in the center - it was his eye! The water flowing from it was made up of his tears.

“But you’re crying!” I said, in a loud whisper. This didn’t seem like the sort of place to shout. “They are your tears!”

“Tears, yes.” I heard in my head. “But not all tears are for sadness and pain. There are tears of laughter and tears of joy as well. Life is made up of all of these. My tears carry a bit of each of these in them. When you create, you feel these and pass them on to those with whom you share your works.”

I placed one hand in the stream coming from his eye and felt the tears falling over them. They were still cool and refreshing, not hot like tears usually are.  They were a little bit of distilled life, pooling in my cupped palm and running out again.

“Drink,” said the voice in my head.

I cupped the other hand under the flow as well, and drank. Then I knelt there for a while, in the wet, with my hand on the side of the Ouroborus, feeling the rhythm of life pulsing beneath his shining scales - beginnings and endings - and listening to the rushing of his tears as they flowed off into the world.

She Wolf (c) 2007

Ouroboros

I was in a grump. As we walked the beginning of the Serpentine Road, Joey contentedly hummed his donkey repertoire while I sulked in silence. I couldn’t shake my dispirited and bleak feelings; they stabbed at my thoughts and I was unable to staunch the bleeding. I was so absorbed in feeling sorry for myself, I ran smack into Joey’s rump as he called a halt.

He turned his head towards me. “Problems, dear Bo? You should stay alert on this journey. Oh, and you won’t bang into me again, will you?”

“Umm. Yes. I mean no. What I really mean is yes to the problems and no to banging into you.”

“Not an eloquent speech, Bo, but I understand what you say.” Joey peered at me through his tortoise-shell eyeglasses, the ones with no lenses. I sensed he saw more than he let on.

“We shall stop at this spot for awhile, Bo. I’m going to munch on that patch of luscious grass. There’s a flask of carrot juice in my pack. Why not have a drink before you look around? And there’s a handful of peanuts in the bottom. Are you hungry?”

The thought of carrot juice and peanuts brightened my visage. My throat was parched and my stomach was empty. I glugged down the carrot juice in three swallows and nearly ate the peanut shells in my haste to chomp on the salty nuts. Feeling a bit revived, I looked at my surroundings more closely. We were in a wide spot in the road, a clearing of sorts. There was, as Joey had already discovered, a snatch of overgrown grass waving above the road and trees fringing the circle of trampled, bare earth. The Northern winds had subsided and a pleasant warmth emanated from the shining sun. There was nothing much to see. Road, sky, trees. That was all.

Joey watched me from the corner of his eye. “Perhaps you should examine the…”

But I interrupted him mid-sentence. “Hey, there’s a sign on that ancient green oak.” I could read the rough lettering from where I stood, thanks to my long-distance spectacles.

“OUROBOROS. It says ouroboros, Joey. What in the name of Enchanteur does that mean?”

“Bo, get involved here!” After that not-so-gentle reprimand, Joey rolled over on his side and yawned. “I’ll be taking a teeny nap, Bo, as the road ahead is uphill. Go study the sign. Maybe you’ll be inspired to do more than mope. Now dear, don’t give me such a look. Just go. But do call me if you need my assistance. I’ll keep my ears pricked high.”

I shrugged. I was weary of fighting Joey at every turn, so I followed his bidding. “Bad funk,” I mused. “Really, really bad funk.” But I grudgingly admitted to myself that Joey’s intuition was often right on target. I dragged my feet as I walked to the sign. ‘Ouroboros’. Now what did that mean? As I moved closer to examine the scrawled writing, the toe of my boot struck a hard surface and I stumbled, landing squarely on my hands and knees. A metallic sound rang in my ears. Surprised, I brushed aside forest debris and discovered a manhole cover upon the wooded ground.

“What the…? A manhole in the woods? Wait! An ouroboros? Is this the ouroboros? Joooeeeyyy?”

But my donkey was happily sleeping, curled up tight with his top hat covering his eyes. I didn’t see any ears pricked high. “Guess I’ll let him rest. Perhaps this is a solo adventure.”

I pulled off my sweater and wiped carefully at the metal plate. An intricate design appeared before my eyes. The detail was breath catching. A serpent wound its way along the circumference, tail in mouth, reminding me of the circle of infinity. A lotus woman sat in the center amidst a depiction of the four seasons. Around that, there was a wide circular band imprinted with birds, clouds and sky, moon, sun and stars. Perhaps the symbols offered a message. But what?

As I intently studied the cover, I noticed a mild depression in the center - a depression in the shape of a hand. Curious, I placed my own hand upon the mark. My hand fit perfectly. I felt a rumble beneath my fingers and heard a mild grating sound. I jumped away, startled. The lid slowly slid open. A hole under the metal cover was pitch black inside, though I could make out a steep stairway of stone by the light of the sun. I glanced back at Joey, but he was still oblivious to the world.

For the first time since the conception of this journey, I was mesmerized. I felt a surge of excitement, of fascination. I knew instinctively that I must descend the steps and see what lay below this magical stone. Grappling in Enchanteur’s bag, I found the candlestick but no matches to light its’ wick. Without thinking, I shoved the candle in my pocket and cautiously descended the steps. As the sunlight disappeared, a small glow emanated from my pocket. The candle had lit itself, a tiny flame throwing off dim light. Just enough that I could see. I was in a deserted cave, maybe eight feet in diameter. As I squinted in the darkness, I saw a pair of glittery emerald eyes staring intently at me. I wasn’t alone. I hurriedly turned to leave, but the opening was closed. There was no escape route.

Then I heard it. “Hisss. Hisssssss. Come to me. Come to me.”

I felt pulled in the direction of a large shadow and trembling, I crept across the cave. As I approached, my candle’s flame was snuffed by a hot breath of air. A florescent-glowing serpent lay before me, loosely coiled with its’ mouth swallowing its’ tail. It rested on a heavy carpet and I vividly saw Egyptian figures snaking in a dance across the edges, moving figures, dancing, waving their arms in gestures of supplication. Again I looked into the serpent’s eyes. This time I could not look away.

“You have come. It is good. A lesssson. I shall teach you.” I shuddered at the idea of a lesson taught by this immense serpent. It noticed my discomfort. “You are ssssafe. I am Ouroborossss.”

Instinctively, I bowed to this beautiful creature. Its’ body was the size of a muscle man’s arm, thrice over. Its’ scales shimmered, like those of a mermaid just surfacing from the sea, and they melded into a dazzling array of metallic rainbow colors.

“Ssssit.” He motioned ever so slightly to a small hassock embroidered with gems - diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and especially, with emeralds the color of the serpent’s eyes. “Lisssten,” it murmured.

I could not help but listen. I was under the enchantment of Ouroboros.

“You are a traveler with Enchanteur.” It was not a question.

I took a deep breath and stammered in a strangled voice. “You…you kn-n-now Enchanteur?”

“Yesss, Bo. I know Enchanteur. Lemuria isss Enchanteur. Enchanteur isss Lemuria.”

“And…and…and you know my name? But how…”

“Yessss, Bo. I know of you. I know of your struggles. I carry a messssage for you. In time, you will underssstand.” He paused, then looking down at the Egyptian dancers he said in a sonorous hiss, “Eternity. Night and day. Completion.”

A headache was creeping behind my eyes, suddenly making concentration difficult. “But…I don’t…”

“In time, Bo. In time. I give you this gold bracelet as a reminder of our conversssation. ” Ouroboros closed its’ eyes. “Go to your donkey. And Bo, be kind. Joey loves you.” Again, I startled as the serpent spoke a familiar name. Then the glow from the serpent faded and a flame lit my candle. By its’ light, I saw the cover to the Serpentine Road was open.

Puzzled, but feeling a serenity I had felt only in a very distant time, I rose out from the cave. Ouroboros had wrapped his gift tightly about my wrist and I could not remove it. The bracelet shone with rows of emeralds, all reminding me of the glint in the serpent’s eyes. I felt his eyes upon me as his words floated with me.

My heart skipping erratically, I went to wake Joey.

Rainbow Serpent

 

A traveller stops to commune with the beloved Rainbow Serpent and learn more about the House of the Serpents and the Order of the Rainbow Serpent Priestess who rules this house.

 

by Heather Blakey