The Fool

by Rae

Unknown, unbound,
unchained, unscrupulous, under
no pressure, under
the impression of uncomprehension.
Obscure only
to the eye that believes
in its own shape-
whatever you do, do not get ready!
Do not don armor,
forget it as easily
as your keys
Do not be coming in here
with your ideas your needs your questions,clenched
with what you think this time around the spiral
should be, caught up in the knots
you’ve been untying for years.
Forget why you’ve come, up
and away- set yourself to floating
with others in the formless swirl before it begins
to opaque and you become a child of earth, descending
the stairs with red overalls with buttons, about 3 years old,
cookie in hand, a wide, half-crescent smile, teeth so small
they are hidden like secrets.

You lead a gnarled wolf thru the wood,
who does not hesitate to follow your bumbling steps,
such is the wolf’s love
of your innocence, and you say,
come,
wolf-that-is-me-at-all-moments-past-and-future
not needing to notice how the wolf’s glossy fur
intertwines before the strands become disparate again,
not needing to recognize those holes in the path,
ones shaped by previous falls, no
you’ve never seen them, never
been here before. So
shrug off and skip to warm yourself
against a stone sunned by a gracious
afternoon. Echo of woodpecker suggests
a hilarious vastness,
while a merry-go-round spins in the distance.
Let the fact that it can all become new again
be the current that carries you.
that stretches your grin into the night, superimposed
so the whole sky becomes laughter, and
trust the intelligence of your own chaos.
Revel in the revival, naked wanderer,
with negatives on one side and positives on the other,
this is the seat, my friend,
the very Ground of Being–

ground zero.