day 4, napowrimo.
Snakes, Apples, and Satan’s Light
Shedding off that snake’s wrap after the tree climb
makes the swing from branch to branch freeing.
Shakes off the fruit before the Big Bite at the
Garden’s gate.
The ground looks so far down
before both feet hit Earth’s cushion.
Maybe it’s all fours that makes the land
like a panther on the move for the wild and free
away from the slither and squeeze
Dirt and grass hold tight securing the Garden path
that leads away from that snake and tree.
The smell of rotting apples lingers sweet
with each inhale rising, crushed between toes
That damn old snake wraps around the
upper most branches flicking it’s teasing tongue.
A taunt that won’t soon be forgotten in the hold on
of what imaginings take love and rightness away.
Letting go of that old shield lets the chilled wind
hit where everything is so vulnerable and new.
Awakening to what was forgotten in the dream
that seemed to matter to someone else’s slither.
A biblical hoax queuing us to transformation’s
parable where the answers wait so willingly for
the questions. And that satan snake has always
been an angel in disguise falling from grace to
find grace in the peeling off of old darkness that
gives way to the ultimate lightness of being.
