Snake Goddess

by Amanda Cornwell

And in this moment—and only such as this one is—I feel that all has come full circle. My life trails out behind me not as like jet streams strong and visible at first, then dissipating unreluctantly into dry the atmosphere, but more as a serpent eating its own tail. There is no beginning, all points cannot be viewed at once or ever in totality, but all is there and can be scanned, except the head of the serpent, which is my own present. And experience fills not the circle created, but the inside of the snake itself, and slowly the serpent expands upon itself. This expansion is bountiful but does not occur at will. Living alone will not cause this growth—no—it is a product of self-analysis. And as the serpent may symbolize both sin as in Christianity and earthly sensuality as in more grounded religions—both the positive and negative may explore the snake and win its perspective. And the strength of the snake to withstand both is from the will, which stems from the greater mysteries of divine destiny—god is that you?

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