A Lad works at the menial tasks, and meaningless jobs of the yard and kitchen. He learns the basics of living on earth.

When he is strong enough, and used to following orders, he is called upon to become a Page, the assistant of a knight. He cares for the equipment, horse, and obeys whatever commands his master gives him. He becomes familiar with the trappings of manhood.

When he is ready, and has been himself trained to a point of minimal competency, he is put to the test. If he passes the rudiments of manhood, he is dubbed a knight. Green is his color, because as a new knight, his greatest task is to learn what it means to be a knight.

He grows in strength, prowess, and experience, and finds that he is strong. He can have his way, by his might. He becomes the Red Knight.

But getting his way through brute force leaves him dissatisfied. The voice in his heart convinces him that there is more to his life than living for himself. He wrestles with higher thoughts, discovers the beauty and importance of Truth. Now his life and service has found new meaning, and in his search for significance, he knows that he must live and fight for what is right, for the Truth, and for the oppressed. He becomes the White Knight, the one in shining armor.

But the trouble with the White Knight is that he is self-contained. He is always right, and he doesn’t need anyone. He is constantly fighting the good fight, rescuing the damsels, righting wrongs, serving and protecting. But he is unapproachable, unreachable, and above the common man. He lives alone in the high and lofty realm of Ideals, and all his strength is sealed up and protected inside him.

Until he is wounded. When his shining armor is pierced, and stained with his own blood, he falls crashing to the ground. Through pain, injury, and loss he discovers that being the Champion of Truth isn’t enough, and even more devastating is the realization that Right doesn’t always win. Goodness doesn’t always prevail. And for the first time in his adult life, he needs. He cannot heal himself, save himself, win the battle, protect himself, or even keep himself alive. He finds that he is after all, completely dependent on others. Faced with his own mortality, he has no choice but to cast aside his shining, broken armor, and put himself in the care and under the control of others.

As he heals, he finds common ground with common folk. He remembers the simple joys of a simple life, the satisfaction of a day’s labor, the contentment of time spent with friends. He reconnects with people, and relearns all the lessons from his previous stages. He will work hard, do as he is told, use his strength for those he cares for, learn humility, lead with grace, and become approachable. He becomes the Black Knight.

The Black Knight is not the symbol for evil, but for death. His mortality has made him truly alive. His wound has allowed his pent up strength to flow out to those around him who need it. Knowing by experience that life is precious and fleeting, and that people are of great intrinsic value, he has matured, ripened, looked into the jaws of death, and learned that each day, and each of his people, are gifts from God above.

It is the Black Knight who creates beauty, whether in poetry, painting, gardening, or calligraphy. He is in touch with his feelings, for though his wound is closed, it will never fully heal. He has made peace with himself, and allows himself and others to be less than perfect. He doesn’t always do the right thing, for he doesn’t always know what is right. He just does the best that he can for the people he cares about. He knows how to kill, and he knows how to heal. He can fight, and he can love.

Now he is fit to be King.

Wise, compassionate, fierce, just, approachable and forgiving, he is the Beloved Monarch for whom the people have been waiting.

Long live the King.