Naked. Clothed only by my sins. Jealousy wrapped around my neck. Sloth draped over my shoulders. Lust sagging around my ankles. Here I am. See me. Human. Unashamed.

Unmasked. Hiding no longer. The apple was juicy and I will not add to my lies to say I didn’t enjoy its sweetness. I’m not Adam. I will not blame Eve nor the serpent. I would have taken a bite on my own. Others can teach but I needed to learn.

Don’t mistake this shamelessness for pride. My sins are ugly and not to be celebrated. But I’m not denying or hiding the reality of my humanity anymore. I’m coming to terms and owning up. There is no self forgiveness, but if I ask I might be forgiven.

Be well,



  1. murisopsis says:

    Monty this is really a good prose poem! I think we should all practice standing naked before our maker either figuratively or literally… it is humbling.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Monty Vern says:

      I’ve been participating in a fellowship and exploring faith…this was inspired by the teaching. Thanks for sharing your feedback.


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