Poem: Silent Joseph
A poem about the great saint you've forgotten about.
A friend thought of this poem of mine today, and couldn’t find it online. Gasp!, I said. So…here it is, even if it’s not Christmas.
Silent Joseph Rood Maker The taciturn carpenter, Bearded and diligent to rise, But given silently to the shaving of planks Or fitting quiet joints to appropriate size. Thus might Joseph be imagined, Who is given no lines to speak in Christmas’ tale. But I have it on reliable authority That his laugh barked as loud as hammer on nail. An artisan holy skilled and prominent, Seen as a man of garrulous joys, Good to women and kind to children, Making for Jesus’ friends their scrapwood toys. In Nazareth, city of the branch, Lived he who crafted the Rod of Jesse, Turning the wheel, modeling for his Son The manhood of Men, which he knew to be messy. Joseph it was who loudly showed Jesus How to pick up what had been laid down, How the rude rod and nail that pierces Can build ships, and worlds, and towns.