“How To Suffer A Fool, Gladly.” A Poem

Illustration I made in conjunction with this poem. Imagery is a self-portrait interpretation of The Fool card in Tarot.

PDF FOR PROPER SPACING ON MOBILE

How To Suffer A Fool, Gladly.

How much Liberation there is in seeing that you are such an utter Fool.
How much Strength there is in knowing, you know so very little.
How much Humility there is in remembering,
The only sure thing is: Nothing is sure!

So often, Folly & Courage walk hand in hand.
The Soul needing both to frolic & muster forward.
With only the physical burdens of stick & bindle,
Plucked flower and comfort Creature to bear.
With the capacity to wander with abandon,
From so many heres, to so many theres.
Unaware of sudden cliffs just out ahead, in the near distance.

See, the thing about being a Fool is: Each fall you take,
You learn more about what it is to be resilient.
Your new additions of scars, internal or external, may be persistent
But, you know what it is to push life, to its Fullest.
Each day, you add a little more to your Consciousness.

You dole out Compassion as if you possess it in spades.
Everywhere you go, you lead an invisible Parade.
You beam in the Sunshine, as well as the Shade.
I wouldn’t call our disposition “tough” but more likened to malleable clay.
It renders our hearts susceptible to arrows & blades, But!
That doesn’t keep us from setting them, vulnerable, on display.

Because, be that as it may, we are masters of mending;
Of bending with so little resistance, like a hollow reed in a Storm.
Each time we find ourselves with stomachs barren,
As if from nowhere, appears a hook and a worm.
We are equally acquainted with the Sun & the Moon,
As we are with the otters & the paulpers & the panhandlers,
And the peacocks & the socialites & the fancy pretenders.

Everywhere we go, we are right at Home.
We are old souls, with the heart of a Child.
We take the scenic route, yet are always on time.
We like our poetry to carry cadence & rhyme.
We display demeanor & face that melts
Our company’s fears, temporarily away.
Allowing the hurt to say just what it is which ails them today.
And we seemingly always have a phrase that
May Illuminate an area once in Shadow.
This is not to proclaim that we have a high tolerance for Pain,
That we do not get wet in the rain.
Or that we are so heroic & brawny, that our
Strengths could contribute to a Dragon to be slain.

No, what I’m saying is that Fools are akin to lichen that keeps
Appearing and contributing to the life of the Forest.
No two Fools alike. Often unnoticed.
None so insistent on permanence.
We were here for a Season, and there we went.
We are a friend of Sorrow as much as we are of Merriment.
Every move is dripping with Sentiment.
We feel Each passerby, their joy as well as their disdain.
And the best of us accept that this is just what we are:
A sort of celestial sponge, that must absorb the
Darkness with our Light, everyday.
And be wrung out each morning, again.

There is no turning away from our Fate,
From The Ancestral Weaving;
We are at bay to a tapestry,
That cannot be unmade.

Yes, the wisest move a Fool can make,
Is to Surrender to the elements, the emotions,
The people, the spirits, and the Continuous Unfolding.
Of which, if we are prudent, should never cause a one of us to dismay.

So, when you meet a jolly or sad Fool along the path that you’ve made,
Welcome the gift that their presence created…
Be it a song, or a poem, or a drawing, or a dance.
Or a handshake, or a hand-up, or a passing glance,
Or a-keeping at a distance,
For those that needed space.

We’re here to either be in or out of your Way.
And we have a special little manifesto we hold dear, however cliche:
Each day is a fresh start to a new Heaven or Hell.
You are tasked to greet which ever is up at the dawn with your most
Sincere tear or smile and take life as it comes, step by step, mile after mile.