THE FOOL

There once was a Fool with a wide-open grin, who danced on the edge where the world might begin. He juggled the moon and twirled with the breeze, daring all the storms, saying, “Do as you please!” “Why leap off the cliff?” asked a Sorrowful Sage. The Fool laughed aloud: “Why, to leap is to gauge! To gauge what’s below—be it feathers or stone, to fly like a dream, or to fall with a groan. For life is a dance, not a slow, steady climb. It’s tumbling and turning and losing all time!” “But what of your failures?” the Grey Scholar frowned. The Fool flipped his hat: “That’s where wisdom is found! Flowers must fade, and towers must fall, but play on, dear friend, and dance through it all. Setbacks are lessons that brighten the day—what else is a fool for but learning the way?”

Onward he strolled, with a jump and a jest, while others stood still, debating what’s best. He sang to the stars, “I’ve not fallen—not yet!” and laughed at the world’s unrelenting regret. “O Fool!” cried a voice from the depths of the wood, “You’re wandering blind, though you think it is good! You’re reckless and lost—just look where you roam!” The Fool shook his bells: “But I carry my home. I’m a Fool of the Road, a King of the Spin, for what is the point in a life that stands still? Better to tumble and laugh down the hill!” With a whirl and a twirl and a step off the ledge, he danced in the wind on the very cliff’s edge. But when he hit bottom, he bounced with a spring, and stood up and grinned, not a scratch on a thing.

“Dear me,” said the Critic, “How can this be true?” The Fool tipped his hat: “It’s the magic of new! For each time I leap, I learn how to fly—the fall’s just a lesson in touching the sky!” And onward he wandered, with laughter and cheer, singing, “There’s no end, far or near. For setbacks are dances, and failures, my friends, are simply new tunes where the music begins!” Yet still the Wise Men, with books in their hands, mocked his journey across shifting sands: “This Fool doesn’t see—how can he not know?” But he just smiled wide, and kicked off his shoes: “Like sun shining, there’s nothing to lose! For nothing is real, and it’s all just a game—I’m free from the guilt and the shame and the blame!”

With a wink and a skip, he spun out of sight, singing, “There’s nothing that’s real, but it’s all alright.” And he leapt through the haze, in wonder and glee, crying, “To live is to leap, and to fall is to be free!”

Andy Monks and AI :)