The Always Blue

I'm here again. 1

On the sunny side of the ruins, the disk of desert blue bleeds into a pair of burning sunsets at lidded vision. All of the colors have come to play in this kiva. It's roof is worn down to the weathered roots of cedar teeth biting at a bitter wind, but there is escape from a cold shivering in stumbling down through its circles. 2

I've come to Tsin Kletsin to find a blue myth. I am gambling.3

There is a dangerous rope near left boot, waiting. It is building a new day to save its sticky flesh. Time's come for it to find the hole of winter, to snuggle amongst its fellows' scales and wait. Wait to dance in procreation. For now, it simply stands in line to live.4

I pick up Crotalus viridis, gently pinching and caressing its head, I kiss it on the mouth, blowing my warmth in, to its viper pits. I unzip my jacket and hold it dearly, with open hands, to my warming chest. There is sun within me.5

It is not long before the star, entering my closed eyes, puts me adream in its brilliance; before again I know the power of red dreaming at its blue sky. And in this particular trance, a snake grows into my heart and towards its magic. It puts my thoughts into the frame of another's mind and the logic of all of my words seem lost yet forthcoming as some new heart beats into an existing sun, risen. I cannot contain or train such magic any more.6

I come alive as the inverted nose of a crescent shape on the floor of the opened kiva. Blue sky still lives to blink into my waking and a fingernail moon mirrors the cut of my current sensibility. I realize that I am still with snake. The crotalid is curled up on my chest. 7

I feel its tongue on my neck and hear the grinding of gravel. It is Spotted Elk and his brother.