The Fool

A boy running through a field under the sun
With hair the color of gold spun from flax
And eyes like jewels in a common crown,
A mere boy who could be Arthur returned
Seems to possess the secret to happiness
That we all seek in life before we die.
We patiently wait until he might explain it to us.

Like grains of sand, time slips through the glass;
The boy attains manhood, with all the
Wisdom and understanding that come with age.
Now that he has put away childish things,
We ask of him the way of happiness.
But his puzzled face reveals that the child,
Like the answer, has been long forgotten.