The blacksnake slithers through
the new-mown grass,
traveling fast.
It lifts its head, like a skinny cobra,
looking around for predators;
finding none,
it moves swiftly on
its secret way.
Nagna says:
The snake, too, is consciousness.
There is nothing else.
Text and image Copyright © 2020 by Donald C. Traxler aka Nagna Chidaananda.
