The Annointed Fool

They poured the gold upon his head before he knew the weight of kings. No crown was given, no kingdom named, no voice declared him worthy. Only the gold descended, through the silence of his becoming, and settled where the heart had once been wounded. He had mistaken wisdom for the end of uncertainty, and holiness for the absence of shame. But the gold did not conceal his foolishness. It entered through it. And what the world had called his failure became the place of his anointing. Still, he could not say whether he had been chosen or merely found standing beneath the falling light. For the fool alone could bear the mystery of a blessing he had done nothing to deserve. And the gold continued to fall.