Invoke the Fool

 

Sometimes a fool is needed

A clown of God

Call the fool

We are foolish in the wisdom of the world

These parts are nothing new

But I don’t like the notion

Of my own foolishness

 

I trained in clowning once

Wore the clothes and make-up

And took my act out there

You know, where you are

 

It was all right

It didn’t hurt

And I didn’t hurt anyone else

Maybe we did some good, together

But it’s a squeamy feeling, all the same

 

Not to talk

Not to eat or drink

Were not the hard parts

It was the openness to whatever:

 

I might be laughed at

Though that was the point

But, depending on the working preposition,

With or at?

 

Then there was

The brittleness, the fragility

In scorn

 

But faith is something funny

Faith in me, faith in you

Faith in God

Faith in humanity

Faith in Earth

No evidence required

But that we cannot sense

The more we demand material,

The more we lose the energy

Lopsiding the equation

 

Fair is foul

And foul is fair

But it’s not that even, either

For faith finally

Is not a seesaw, evened out

But requires all

All we have to risk

For something evidenced so poorly

 

Who would believe this anywhere,

Anyone

But a fool!

 

C L Couch

 

notes

 

There is a sad and beautiful story by Tomie dePaola called The Clown of God.

 

Fair is foul, and foul is fair:

Hover through the fog and filthy air.

—the witches in Macbeth

 

 

(image)

By ingawh, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=45210850

Stratford Upon Avon