I. CARPENTRY
Outside the town in a rough-hewn cresche,
No red-cheeked cry made he;
Though his mother waited to put him to breast,
While shepherds and kings filed by.
When he was two, instead of “No!”
He watched with intelligent eye;
Knee-High to the carpenter’s bench stood he,
Whence hammer and nails were plied.
At five, he fashioned a fisherman’s boat
That could float any puddle-storm;
Like the one that Peter would pilot forlorn,
Til’ he called his master’s name.
About twelve years of age, this carpenter’s son
Was lost in Jerusalem.
What had ended the celebration,
Led distraught parents back into town.
High priests had gathered ‘round the show:
A child wise beyond his years,
Yet his parents marveled through joyous tears,
When he told them: “Did you not know ...?”
For his father’s trade was the carpenter’s trade,
So they took their obedient son
Back out of the realm of his Father’s House
To the workshop in Nazareth towne.
Friends and neighbors who used each hand-crafted piece
That could, time and wear, withstand;
Saw a caring patience beyond belief, in The Master-Craft’s-Man’s hand.
Then The Christ entered into his public life, for his mother made meek request,
At the holy vows of a man and wife: “But you’ve saved the best wine till last!”
A Centurian’s faith, a touch of his robe, “Come and See...”
“Come Follow me ...”
The young man only neighbors and kinfolk knew,
Who in three years changed the world; Till a crosspiece of dogwood was fashioned on cue,
And a soldier gripped hammer and nails.
Yet those three years He taught, before his life ran out, made the best-selling Book of all time,
Then beyond Thomas’ doubt; “Halleluia! Shout!” In Three days, He had proved His Word true!
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