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When man first made his gods, he
made them portable, terra cotta
from the earth like man was made.

With a stylus he gave them features:
the body of a male with a row of
breasts, sometimes a lizard head.

Then some dark-eyed prophet struck
the ground with his staff and the
water wedged itself back.There

was a pillar of cloud by day, and
at night the fire cast shadow on
the sand, elongating the gods

until they became giants. They say
it rained frogs. The rivers ran black
with blood but, still the people held.

Jesus was a Jew who converted
to carpentry. He made a mean chair,
but no one would sit and listen.

Wow, stellar poem! And that killer close! Kudos

Interesting poem, the only problem I have is that it’s set in Old Testament times and the final stanza has these people referring to Jesus. Jesus wasn’t born until hundreds of years later and only known to these people in an abstract prophetic sense.

I have to agree with Dale on this.
The poem is trying to associate Jesus with images and blasphemous attempts
to seek God by primitive peoples. It cannot give a view of a gradually revealed
theology which leads to the Son of Man born Christmas day. There is an attempt
at humour but at the cost of a figure held in awe by a billion people today.

The fulfilment of O.T. prophesy is found in the celebration of Christmas, a day
even Pagans celebrate in the wearing of jolly tinseled hats, wreaths on the doors
turkey dinner with family and the giving of presents. Some might even sing
carols with the neighbourhood and in secret write a series of poems denying
all that is true about the man of God sent for us, Jesus.

I see this quite differently. I believe it uplifts Jesus beyond the glitz and miracle crazed rabble to the Carpenter Who no one listens to because He had no glitz, but His Word was their salvation, but they don't listen.