Rulers and Crowns

Why should human rulers wear crowns of gold,

when their hands are dust and their hearts uncertain?

Gold is the metal of the sun—

incorruptible, unyielding, pure—

yet men are the clay that cracks beneath its light.

The crown was meant to remind them

of heaven’s fire, not their own glory;

a circle unbroken, symbol of service,

of justice that warms, not burns.

But too often the light blinds,

and gold becomes a mirror instead of a halo.

They see their reflection and forget the sun.

They mistake the shine for worth,

the metal for meaning.

Let those who govern wear instead

a crown of conscience,

forged in humility and truth.

Let their scepter be mercy,

their throne a place of listening.

Until the heart rules wiser than the hand,

no metal, however bright,

can make a mortal king divine.