THE POET AND THE FOOL
By
-Daniel-
©
Though we be apart,
we are but a heartbeat away.
I have come to share a Truth
upon this blessed day.
Beside the Pathway of Life sat the Poet
wallowing in the comfort of self-pity while
bemoaning the uselessness of his work.
And as luck would have it,
along came a fool who saw the sorrow
of the Poet's tears and stopped to give
comfort as only a fool would think to do.
And the Fool greeted the Poet asking of him...
"What troubles your heart my brother?
What has caused you to step off the Pathway of Life
and how can I help you to be upon your way again?"
But the Poet replied...
"You who possess naught but the happiness of a fool,
how could you ever understand the depths of my sorrow?
What words of wisdom could you give to lift me
from my own despair?"
But the Fool only smiled as he spoke...
" 'Tis true...
...I am only a fool,
but even through the lips of a fool
does God speak to those who would listen."
And the Poet lamented...
"I have wasted my life weaving dreams into words,
pretending that these illusive shadows somehow
had the value of work.
In truth, I know not the fruits of honest labour...
Know not the dignity of the carpenter
building the homes that shelter the sons of man;
know not the joy of tending the fields of harvest
that feed the sons of man;
nor do I know the thankfulness of the physician's hands
that heal the sons of man.
Naught but a thief am I,
living in the corners of a dream,
waiting to steal the wings of emotion,
only to chain them within the rhythm of my poems.
Better by far for me to have been born a fool."
But the Fool only smiled as he spoke...
"What makes you think you are not a fool?
Indeed, a bigger fool than I sits before me,
crying over gifts ungiven with no thought of the
precious gifts that are his to give away.
You long for the gifts to give to the sons of man,
but...
...The carpenter's work shall fall to ruin.
The fields of harvest replenish hunger's need
for but a day.
The physician's hand brings only a moment's relief
to the shell that is destined to pass from view...
...While your gifts are forever given
to the Sons of God...
...housing their dreams
feeding their hopes
and healing their spirit.
Your gifts are the Flowers of Life
but daily must you water them with thanks
and feed them with purpose."
And the Poet looked at him in astonishment...
But the Fool only smiled as he spoke...
"None but the wise shall ever understand
the babblings of a fool."