Fool

Fool

I can see through sapphire dreams,
crystal clear oceans,
crimson sunsets
into the fool's paradise
the forbidden garden
where the centaur lives
feeding on sweet nectar,
and bittersweet strawberries,
whispering to unknown ears:
"You don't know me, but I know you!" --
as if the ruby eyes forget
to peer back, intrinsically
studying, all the while softly suggesting:
"I know you too, possibly
even better than you know yourself!"…
for words need not be voiced
to understand,
to communicate,
to observe.
The truth is as it is,
not what is imagined,
but what is valid,
and you are the centaur --
me, the eyes,
and you have spoken,
while I have listened,
giving yourself.
without protective shields.
I sit patiently, and silently absorb,
and what you know of me
are the observations of a clown,
performing for an audience of one:
you, the one who recognizes
in such a way,
that you can't know me,
for you foolishly reveal yourself
while I just sit and watch,
sit and watch.