Poetry

[Confused]

The March of the Emperor

The Emperor walks,
silent and subtle.

I think that I do in life;
but the Emperor,
smiles at my secret thought.

I think it is I who seeks an audience,
in the court of the Emperor.
The Emperor is but a witness,
a silent and composed presence.

The Emperor waits,
for me to know,
that it is not I who seeks,
but it is the Emperor,
who seeks his radiance through me.

Do I have to bow before the Emperor?
It does not matter,
for the Emperor marches nonetheless,
silent and subtle,
as it has been always.

But who is this invisible Emperor?
Of course, it is the consciousness,
of the One Infinite Creator.