Towering to the heavens
Casting shadows dark
Across the melon patch,
Stretching high across the sky
Straw fingers threat'ning
Feathered fiends to snatch.
Without the breath of life
Specters that cannot speak,
Stuck high on splintered sticks
The useless gods we seek.
Chunks from forests rough cut
Shaped divine by chisel, and
Nailed down so as to not totter,
Nuggets and veins mined so deep
Fashioned fair by expert hands
Worshipped by every son and daughter.
Adorned in faded purples and blues
Stuffed full from collar to cuff,
That perish in fire and wind
Empty idols not near enough.
Look to Him who stretched out the heavens!
Look to Him who spoke light into the dark!
Look to Him who created earth and sky!
Look to Him who grew the forests tall!
Look to Him who buried gold and silver
in the hills!
Look to Him who caused the wind to blow
Look to Him who blew His breath into our
Look to Him!
Anything at all,
Are just scarecrows
Destined to fall.
Jeremiah 10: 1-16