Venomous Wisdom

Reprinted from my other blog. Enjoy.

There is ancient serpent wisdom to be found in myth and legend. According to Welsh legend, the wizard Taliesin gained his great wisdom and poetic insight from three drops of magickal potion from the cauldron of Cerridwen. According to legend, the rest of the potion was poisonous. Mystical powers gained from the feminine mysteries. Three drops. And the rest poison.
Taliesin (who was not the original intended recipient), by design or chance, ended up with the potent three drops. Taliesin had been a boy named Gwion Bach, who was tending the hearthfire underneath this great cauldron of brew.
Interestingly, we eventually find Loki (himself a captive flame) chained up underneath such a great cauldron of brew. Keeping it warm, maybe.
Anyway, a bit of this wisdom revealed itself to me, and I share it with you now.

Laeviss tells of how the mead was obtained:
Many long lifetimes since the Serpent and the Eagle had become companions, the Lady set the Serpent a task, that from Night to Day he would guard Her sacred cauldrons of wisdom and inspiration. From Day to Night he spent availing himself of the companionship of the Eagle, and when nightfall came, the Serpent retired below the earth to watch over and protect his charge.
The Serpent and the Eagle spent many pleasant hours above ground in talking, and mirthful hours in laughter, but nightfall would arrive, and the Serpent would remember his charge. Down he would go, into the ground, deep into the stones of the earth, through narrow crevices and pathways only he could follow, to where the cauldrons were set by the Lady. And he would carefully guard them, for the Lady chose wisely who she allowed to drink thereof.
One day, the Eagle remarked to the Serpent that it was a very great shame that the famous mead of inspiration should be so locked away from the daylight. He asked of the Serpent that he be allowed a sip of the precious liquid, “For then,” he said, “I would share it with the world instead of keeping it locked so far away that it benefits not the earth nor those who dwell upon the earth.”
“My friend,” said the Serpent, “I believe your idea is beneficial, but I cannot think that the Lady would allow us to steal Her wisdom, and if I break faith with Her, She will force a punishment upon me that would be most unpleasant indeed.”
“Listen, friend, ” said the Eagle, “If we do this together, I do vow to take you with me up on high during the day when the Lady will not be able to catch you, and there you will live in my nest with me forever, that we might continue our long conversations.”
And the Serpent said, “But well do I remember those days back in Sumer, when before Shamash the Sun God we vowed eternal brotherhood, and well do I remember that it was you who broke faith with me, and left me bereft. ”
“Ah, but I was redeemed by the light of Shamash, and anyway, that was a very long time ago, indeed. We were as children, then. I am the new, improved Eagle. You know truly where I keep my heart. It has always resided with you.”
Having an almost certain knowledge that the Eagle was lying through his beak (for the Eagle was a great liar, indeed, and the Serpent had known him a long, long time so was well aware of this) the Serpent still considered the Eagle his brother, and loved him, and asked him how they might accomplish what the Eagle desired, for the passageways to the mead were much too small for the Eagle to traverse.
“Well, my dearest and oldest brother and friend,” said the Eagle to the Serpent, “It seems to me that you are well versed in magic, with much knowledge of charms and spells. Now, the truth is (and it pains me to say this) you are much better at that sort of thing than I will ever be (everyone knows it), so it would be no trouble at all for you to transform me into a seed and take me there within yourself.”
The Serpent agreed, and they set the time for the following night, when they would journey together to get the mead. And the Serpent agreed to use his magical skill to transform the Eagle into a seed.
This was accomplished very easily on the part of the Serpent (he rather enjoyed it, actually), and with the seed of the Eagle in his mouth, he traveled the three narrow passageways that lead to the Lady’s cauldrons of mead. And the Serpent allowed the Eagle a sip of each of the three cauldrons. Then he brought the Eagle back through the crevices of stone and onto the surface of the earth. There the Serpent transformed the seed back into the Eagle.
“What do you think, now that you are so inspired?” asked the Serpent. “Was it worth it?” Though he knew the answer.
“It is volcanoes, earthquakes, lightning, the rushing tide, storm waters, hurricanes and all primal energies of the earth. It is beyond worth it. I give it to you, that we share it together.” And he shared the mead with the Serpent, who received it reverently and owned it of himself.
“Now, take me with you when you fly away, as you promised me,” the Serpent reminded his friend. “It will be pleasant to live with you in your nest forever.”
“Wait, my friend,” said the Eagle. ” I want to make sure that you will not call down the wrath of the Lady upon me for this that we have done. I want you to give me a gift. I want you to pledge your faith to me.”
“I hereby give you the gift of my faithfulness,” said the Serpent, and owned this to himself, as he gave himself away.
“Very good,” said the Eagle. “Now, the flight to my nest is very long and dangerous, and it is high in the air. Only I have knowledge of how to live there safely. So I want you to give me another gift. Pledge that you will obey my directions.”
“I hereby give you the gift of my obedience, ” said the Serpent, and owned this to himself, as he gave himself away.
“Also good,” said the Eagle. “Now, I need one more gift from you. You must vow that you will never speak of this thing we have done, lest someone hear your words and call punishment upon us.”
“I hereby give you the gift of my silence in this matter,” said the Serpent, and owned this to himself, as he gave himself away.
Whereupon the Eagle took flight, and left the Serpent there alone on the ground. “You have broken your vow to me,” the Serpent called after him, most distressed over the whole matter.
“Yes, but I will hold you to your vows,” replied the Eagle. “You will remain bound by them to the stones below, and you will wait for me until such time as I care to call upon you by the vows you have made to me and you have freely owned.” He flapped ever higher on his mission to bring the enlightenment to the beings of earth, and the Serpent could now hear him but faintly, “Anyway, why did you listen to me? You know what a great liar I am!”
“I can’t believe I FELL FOR THAT again! That Eagle always lets me down.” thought the Serpent, and crawled off into the crevices to sleep it off and wait.