Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Incognizant Slithering

Incognizant Slithering

Genesis says the serpent first appeared
in the Garden of Eden
with hips, knees, and feet.
But then God cursed it to belly-crawl,
stripping off its limbs as punishment
for Satan possessing it,
crawling into its body to trick humanity,
locking snake eyes ultimately
with God in the garden standoff. 
It wasn’t the animal’s fault. 
Lucifer’s handoff of the body
back to its owner
came with a curse from their Creator
who said to the serpent:        

            You will be hated now
            hidden in the grasses
            your slick slice through the dust
            will disgust the human masses. 
            Twisting around your brother now,
            food your motivation.
            And you will remind my humans how
            Satan whispers, still, temptations,
            to lure them into lust
            and lay them in the grave—
            because sin is sexy.

            So your tail will flagellate like sperm
            the female body craves.

Thus, God punished Satan’s first victim—                           
this hijacked animal,
the devil’s vessel—
possessed for an evil project.

But how fair of God to settle the score
by forcing the innocent serpent
to belly crawl forevermore?

I know that God is just. 
I just don’t understand His ways.
Genesis says that although sin cursed the Earth,
God would send His Son to save.

But if I were a squirmy reptile
expelled thin and limbless through my mother’s bowels,
would I resent this dragging my
underside through the dust?

If I were a scaly culebra
winding my way through the world,
would I be pissed I was wrongly punished? 

No.  Because God grants creation adaptation.

If I were the snake,
I too would be granted
rows of scales like fingernails
to unshock my journey over the gravel,
I too would be given
the gift of skin-shedding—
the ability to undress down to fresh keratin,
leaving a delicate sock hanging
over the bark of tree limbs.

If that were me,
I would belly-crawl contentedly, 
I would slither and crawl as my lot in life,
because not questioning why I slither—
but simply slithering
would be the highest purpose of my existence.

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