I will tell you, children, a true account
of Santa Claus and Prometheus.

The Thunder-throwing King of Gods is Zeus.

When humans tricked Great Zeus into choosing bones
instead of meat (which is why still today
we give the gods the bones and eat the meat
ourselves), Zeus got mad and took fire away.
Without fire, people collapsed in defeat
and cried and rolled around like babies.
Prometheus felt bad and said “Maybe,
I should steal fire back for them.
They need it more than Zeus, who bends
all time and space at will, who moves all things
with the shake of his thoughts.” So Pro then brings
back fire to humankind.
And we were grateful, at the time.

But Zeus wasn’t grateful. He was angry.
So Zeus tossed Prometheus up against
a high and jagged cliff, where he dangled —
his wrists and ankles tied to that tall stone fence.

And then, as if hanging a thousand feet up
in baking sun and freezing rain weren’t enough,
Prometheus had to watch every day
as an eagle ate his liver away!

That’s right! Every day an eagle — symbol
of Zeus, wise ruler of the blessed immortals —
will peck Pro’s liver thimble by thimble
until all gone, while spiteful Zeus chortles
and says, “That’s what you get for crossing me!”
!Each night Pro’s liver grows back and the eagle gets hungry!

Now Santa’s a giant and jolly elf
who flies through the sky in a reindeer sleigh.
One blessed morning, Santa Claus himself
Saw poor Prometheus chained all the way
up on the steep mountainside. He pulled the reins
and told the reindeers, “Hold, this man’s in pain.”

Santa shooed the eagle off and began
to hammer adamantine chains. But Pro
said, “You mustn’t! Zeus will surely ram
a hundred thunderbolts through me and you
if you defy his will and set me free.”
The Claus paused and said, “your Zeus can’t be
a god of much degree if kindness he
would punish.”

The gods live on Mount Olympus. They drink
ambrosia and chat and giggle and waste
one century after another. Think
about that! But now they’re face to face
with Prometheus and Santa Claus
and Jesus and the Buddha and all
these other religious reformers,
these bright-eyed, heavenly party stormers.

“Hey Zeus, don’t you know that Love’s the only God?
Don’t cry! Don’t be sad! Be glad that God is not
like you or me or like anything except
an infinite generous joy of kind delight
that guides us all to what is good and right.”

But Zeus kept bawling. He wanted to be God!
It wasn’t fair! He had worked hard to win!
He should be allowed the scepter and the rod!
He should decide who was out and who was in!

But then he stopped, and he wiped the snot
off his perfectly divine nose,
and he said, well, at least we’ve still got
restaurants, live music, and TV shows.

Author: BW
Editor: AW
Copyright: AMW