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April 15, 2024

The Fool

By Catherine Arra

The Fool

I am the jester-joker,
colorful and carefree.
I am the wayward vagabond, gypsy-bum
come to tempt you, tease you,
take you away.

I am zero, the beginning,
the sum of none.
White spaces, black holes,
the emptiness before conception,
silence before sound,
the undivided stillness before a storm.

I am twilight -- which one, you decide.

Anything can happen in my grasp
and grasp I do -- catch you unaware
when days have grown weary
desire dull.

You'll never know on which shoulder I'll land,
in which ear I'll whisper.

I am your innocence, your puppy-dog instinct,
your waiting satchel, the perfect white rose.
I say, Come. Come this way
with your child's mind and reckless abandon.

I am your laughter and acquiescence,
your surrender to faith or folly.
I dance you along a precipice,
my fool in tow, take you
to the edge, to the daunting fall
where you alone must choose
to leap or turn.

Article © Catherine Arra. All rights reserved.
Published on 2022-01-10
Image(s) are public domain.
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