The Magic Snake Poem by Chris Ernest Nelson

Radiant on the desert sand,
in the pounding glare of a direct sun,
I watched the scripting serpent dance
the painted shaman's dance.
The cactus flower, glowing white,
opened to embrace a chant so deep
it rumbled in the earth
and cried out to mark the coming
of stars at noon.

Rabid flesh, with rolling drums,
dispelled the awesome darkest wrongs
and out of the private place of fear
swallowed the inner night.
In wonder the totem song laughed
to weave a scarf of pulsing air,
in patterns of magic color.
And the snake worked itself
into the fabric.