'the sloth's haunts'. (02.11.06)

[plansforlife]

i found a crumpled piece of paper among the spare laundry change on my dresser. and on it was a plan. the only one i ever had. made the day after i was told there was no stork, and i remember feeling quite cheated. i was told that this is a woman. she carries your other rib and without it you'll never be complete. and i also remember that is scared me to hear that. seeing all those curves, but not those of which it has become the custom of man to observe. gloves pulled tight over thin and pretty hands. smooth dangling curls that ran of rounded shoulders, clothed in hooded sweatshirts, that turned and twisted about as a waterfall in midair. silver beads that hung from ears like a small child swinging his feet from a rickety bridge and whistling. eyelids that held a shape like that of an apple when they were closed. just so you wouldn't forget there was something beautiful hidden behind them. but i was so afraid of being that boy they whisper about on tip-toes and quietly laugh about behind polished nail hands in the girls bathroom. so i made a diet of spoonfed culture. and the things i learned! o' the things i learned! be attractive. people take notice. and i nursed bulemic pride by causing others to stumble. stay fashionable. others will appreciate what you can fit into. and i learned that being pleasing to the eye is the leading cause of teen heat. be clever and it will get you what you want! but never what you need. and i came upon her on a street corner, bathed in a filthy light that slipped over that slim calorie counting figure, like a curtain over a child who is pretending to hide but plans on being found. clothed in cinnamon and sly of heart. 'i've offered my sacrifices and just finished my vows. and it's you i was looking for!' she said. 'i came out to find you, and here you are. my bed is spread with colored sheets of the finest linen imported from egypt. i have perfumed it with myrrh, aloes, and spices. come home with me.' so i held tight to the hem of her dress that has seen more death than the sea, and she led me away. laughing behind her polished nail hands. black stilettos clicking on the cobblestones and her tongue in my ear. because sin whispered makes it seem more like a secret and her soft touch makes this whole thing appear decent. and i make a plan for life! but came home to find that it had withered. and i fostered a desire for sun soaked beauty. but found it to be meaningless. like an anorexic peacock with a short skirt of pretty feathers. i slept, head resting upon the warm breast of the sloth, and it's breath poured it's whispered sins into every bone of the body my Father gave me. so i became a a servant that speaks secrets to himself from behind hands with dirt pushed deep beneath the nail. digging for coins to fill his threadbare sack with. a fig tree in full leaf with idle branches that become discouraged in the slightest of gusts but in good season still bear nothing to eat. but You put a finger to my hip and gently pushed that fragile ball from the comfort of it's socket. You make me weak but i was a cripple from birth. You offer me freedom from the plans i have made, as i continue shouting in Your patient ear how much i love this earth. create in me something clean. the fox has it's den. the thrush has it's nest. and all that i desire is to be a home for something greater than myself.

'then don't resist anymore.'
come, we'll make plans for life and then watch them wither. and at the end of this Father, You are all that matters.

(Proverbs 7:6-27), (Genesis 32:25), (Matthew 8:20), (Jonah 4).