We Are Pinocchio

We Are Pinocchio

We must recapture the imaginations of men if our culture will be saved.  One way to do this is via literature, music, and film.  Disney's iconic film,  Pinocchio, is being reimagined and set to debut in 2022.  Though I can't vouch for the film, the Pinocchio character is worthy of exploration.

Although his name is now synonymous with lying, Pinocchio is actually derived from the Italian word pino, which means pine wood.  Quite appropriate, as Pinocchio is indeed a puppet of pine.

We're All Born Puppets

But Pinocchio is not unique.  Most people are just like him – fashioned by a Maker, animated, yet not fully alive.  We walk and talk.  We sleep and weep.  We scream and dream ... but like a knothole, we're flawed and damaged.  Something is missing.  We ache to fill the void and cry out like Pinocchio, "I want to be a real boy."  But he was powerless.  His dream dribbled down like sawdust from his mortised mouth.  Who can turn a stringless marionette into a real boy?  Who can make him truly alive?  More importantly, who can make us truly alive?

Pinocchio 1940

Every Pinocchio on our planet arrives quasi-living – animated yet bound.  It's not enough.  The mere mechanics of existence must transmute into living, breathing flesh.  In essence, we're animated, but not yet alive.  Something inside of us is waiting to be born a second time.  To become a real boy will require more than wishing upon a star.  It will demand the Morningstar awaken us with His light (Revelation 22:16).  

Below is my simple poem – about me, you, and Pinocchio.

Pinocchio Reborn

¹Modern-day Pinocchios,
Raw pine carved by Geppetto;  
Are fashioned in the image
Of the craftsman, with stiletto.

²Our joints rough-hewn and jaws clamped tight,
Impediments galore;
With hollow-chested emptiness
We find we can't ignore.

³For we in similarity
Approximate the lad;
We long to be less puppet,
And pine to be less sad.

⁴Like ‘Pin’ we stretch the truth a bit,
Down Adam’s path he goes;
We race with him, in mirror deceit,
And lose by quite a nose!

⁵Today some cry out, “Jiminy,”
Crush crickets without plea;
Yet Jesus Christ turns rage to peace,
The Branch from olive tree.

⁶So I will wish upon the Star,
Become more than a toy;
When Jesus rose, I rose with Him,
Rebirthed, a real boy!

⁷Born once, I limp; born twice, I leap,
Pinocchio has shown;
Automaton has come to life,
Remade in flesh and bone.

⁸Though puppets once, we're now alive,
From here to Borneo,
A brotherhood of all revived:
Me and you ... Pinocchio!