How God Chose A Prophet Poem by Denis Martindale

A fable once was told to me
When I was just a lad,
It told of God and prophecy
As thought of by my Dad...
God spoke to all the candidates,
If service was their aim,
Beyond bold speeches each creates,
As if intent on fame...

God bid them write a poem down
So that He might decide
The one to wear a righteous gown,
Yet not swell up with pride...
The one who wrote the very best
God would anoint in time
And raise him up so he was blessed
With every precious rhyme...

The candidates began to pray,
Then scribbled what they could,
God read the words they chose to say
And some were very good...
Then came a scruffy so-and-so
That many poets knew,
But hardly one they'd like to know,
The way that his hair grew...

God read his poem with delight,
God laughed and laughed out loud,
God giggled there with all His might,
Before that solemn crowd...
The scruffy man was smiling still,
To think God had such fun,
That gave his little heart a thrill,
Yet would he be the one?

God looked upon the scruffy man,
'A prophet you shall be!
Of all of these you know My plan
To bless humanity...
The others wrote of punishment,
But you wrote words of love,
Containing humour to present
Forgiveness from above...'

And so, the scruffy so-and-so
Returned to Earth once more,
So that new psalms would overflow
Beyond each rule of law...
My Dad told me that laughter heals
And helps all kinds of folks,
More than the prophet who just kneels,
But never shares his jokes...


Denis Martindale, copyright, May 2014.