Snakeskin
We traverse the horrors of life
With not a care to our souls,
Only to pick up bruises and scars,
A mixture of brimstone and coals.
Through it all our skin hardens–
Scabs and festers, nasty scales
The beauty once radiant, now gone
For our innocence fails.
The plan the King laid for us
Comes to a halt–
No longer can we move forward
Our snakeskin to fault.
We walk in a cloud of gnats,
Rotten, dirty, stagnant
For we leave the narrow path
To curse our right to be a remnant.
And yet, the Mighty Lion rises for us,
He longs for our freedom–
From our filthy snakeskins
To give glory to His Kingdom.
A deep, bellowous roar,
Claws at the ready
Set to pierce the hardness,
And make hearts steady.
Layer upon layer falls off,
For Christ came to remake men,
To set captives free,
And abolish all their snakeskin!
*The title of this poem came about during our time in Granada, Nicaragua when I was severely sunburned and began peeling like a fiend. The peeling of my back made me think of snakeskin and God gave me the parallels to the spirituality of our lives, I just didn't have the words back then. They came to me recently and so I finally got words to the title of this poem. Go GOD!! You are awesome!!!
