Truth in a Jester's Hat

He wore bells on his shoes

and nonsense on his tongue,

but he saw what the silent men missed—

the crack in the crown,

the tremble in the hand

that signed the decree.

They called him fool,

because he laughed

when the stars fell out of place,

because he rhymed

what they couldn’t reason.

He asked questions

in the shape of riddles,

answers folded inside like

notes in a child’s pocket.

And no one read them

until the war was over.

He bowed low,

tumbled through the throne room,

and whispered

truth to power

in a voice wrapped in giggles.

The king dismissed him—

but dreamed of him nightly,

and woke with

better questions.