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The Fool
- I have traveled
- full cycle
- with the white rose
- of innocence
- and desire as my guide.
- I wander
- impulse to impulse
- like a leaping poet
- towards the edge.
- The heart takes risks.
- I am the Fool
- who knows the paths
- trampled by Death's horse.
- I have touched
- the skeletons of pain
- and no longer call out
- the names of the lost.
- They are the sun
- rising inside me.
- They are the seeds of plenty.
- So I pause on this bare cliff,
- as another journey
- begins.
- Though I've known
- the fall from the Tower,
- Judgement's call, and
- the Lovers' quarrel,
- though I've felt the spell
- of the Moon's light
- and the Star's afterglow,
- though I wear the Sun child's red plume
- and carry the Magician's dark wand,
- I keep returning
- to the Hermit's peak
- where I can rest and heal,
- gather what's left before moving on.
- I take with me
- a pouch of memories,
- the all-seeing eye
- watching my way
- and my dog who barks
- when I've gone astray.
- Don't know
- what I'll find,
- only that I go
- where I have to go.
Copyright © 2004 Carol Lem
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