Monday, 12 March 2012
The fool is the one who shows, knowing
And hiding, sometimes, always, maybe.
In all words and with wondering ways,
The signs flash and the stars do foretell;
The inner rhythms warn as the disquiet,
Of the animals before a storm to look,
Listen and think and know to represent,
The sealing of fate and then by revelations;
Showing it becomes that of a time too late.
The fool is the one who knows, showing
And telling, sometimes, always, maybe.
In future, the past is that is which sways,
The many monsters who always foretell,
All the many ways of a destructive quiet,
Through signs and warnings to look, know
Reckonings within threads of the present,
Hinting and suggesting at these revelations
Which will come to be in a mapping out of fate.